


Ash and Rust

by angel_with_a_scythe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Developing Relationship, Epic, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Hints of Bokuaka - Freeform, Hints of kenhina, I promise there are no zombies or anything, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not your average post apocalypse story, POV Alternating, Post-Apocalypse, Slow Burn, dark themes, humanity's last hope, kurodai - Freeform, mature themes, plot heavy, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_with_a_scythe/pseuds/angel_with_a_scythe
Summary: "A dead tree suddenly crumbled like ash, spending its last breath and scattering its debris like a whisper over the dried up lake. The particles gradually drifted and rolled over the white cracks of the lifeless lake bed, and he watched the black plumes slowly settle until everything was still again.A quiet hiss escaped his mask as it filtered the air.He was leaned back on heavily gloved hands, watching the last moments of the sunset as it dipped below the mountains. Though the Earth was dead, its beauty wasn’t. It had simply taken on a new form."The Earth is dying... the human population is dwindling. Nothing can grow, and Kuroo has been training his entire life to try to save it.Trekking desert and miles of landscape, he is searching for a place where foliage and plant life can finally grow, but a settlement of survivors near his destination derail his mission... or will they lead him closer to the solution?





	1. Ash and Rust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiku, here ~ This chapter is VERY information heavy to establish the background for which this post-apocalyptic world exists. It is futuristic, but still an apocalypse, so please keep that in mind. The plot is established, but the character interactions come towards the end of the chapter where things start speeding up. Bear with me until then!!!
> 
> WAAYYYYYY more characters to come. We have only just begun.

 

He sat on a gigantic rock that overlooked a cracked and broken surface that was once a beautiful lake. He’d never actually seen it in person before—when it was full of water—but his great grandfather had and left behind a picture. It was where he and his wife had hiked for the honeymoon, back when the Earth had been healthier and full of life. His great grandfather had said that it was once part of a national park, something that didn’t exist anymore. Now the ground was scarred and scorched, white where the water had been, and red around it as far as the eye could see.

Most land was barren like this, though perhaps husks of trees would dot the expanse that had somehow managed to stay erect through the storms and dusts. It was oddly still here, and he was able to see farther into the distance than usual, though a thick cloud of brown and red loomed in the distance to the east.

The sun had finally hit twilight, making the environment shimmer with a deep crimson as opposed to its dull red during the daytime. The land itself was, comparatively, in good condition considering it looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed much. It sat in a valley, shielded from most of the violent winds that sometimes stirred dust storms in other areas.

A dead tree suddenly crumbled like ash, spending its last breath and scattering its debris like a whisper over the dried up lake. The particles gradually drifted and rolled over the white cracks of the lifeless lake bed, and he watched the black plumes slowly settle until everything was still again.

A quiet hiss escaped his mask as it filtered the air.

He was leaned back on heavily gloved hands, watching the last moments of the sunset as it dipped below the mountains. Though the Earth was dead, its beauty wasn’t. It had simply taken on a new form.

The hood of his jacket flapped gently against his back in the breeze, and though his mess of black hair was collecting dust without its cover, he didn’t mind much if he got to feel something other than fabric and sweat clinging to his skin. As a precaution, he always shielded himself from the elements whenever possible. The air was technically breathable, but long exposure to the free particles damaged the lungs and greatly increased the risk of contracting Rust Sickness.

It was getting dark, however, and darkness was his preferred time for travel. The blackness was practically impossible to navigate unless one had special gear. It was rare to find such gear, and even rarer to have a way to power it, and thus it made for the path of least resistance. There weren’t any large wild animals anymore except for humans, and if a storm happened to ensue at night, there was little to no chance for survival for any creature anyways.

He stood and brushed the red-orange dust from his hands, then his bottom and legs, pulling at the fabric at his body to adjust for easier movement. He reached up and tousled his hair, a wispy cloud of dust puffing into the wind as it whistled by his ear. Next, he pulled his heavy hood up and over to hang over the mask and goggles secured around his face. He had two goals this evening, and the hardest was finding shelter along the way towards his destination. He only hoped that what awaited him would be what he was searching for.

He slipped his map from his pocket and raked his eyes over its surface, identifying the dead lake and marking his trajectory over the barren land. He should hit the remnants of some buildings in about fifteen miles north of where he was, and from there, he would only be another ten miles from the area he was looking for. It was an approximation, actually. His whole existence was riding on the assumption that the report they’d received was true, but it was the best lead they had and it came from a reliable source.

He looked up and around again. He hadn’t seen another human being in about two months, maybe even longer, but that didn’t mean he would let his guard down. There was no telling who was still alive, where they’d be, or what they’d do to him if they found him. Part of the reason he’d seen no life was due to his remote location, but even in the more populated areas, one could go weeks without an encounter. With humanity on the brink of extinction, survival drove others to desperate acts which usually consisted of robbery and murder, but those were the least barbaric on the list.

The last group of people he had met had been dying, but this occurrence no longer came as a shock to him like when he’d first started travelling. It was a small family and a few strays huddled together in an abandoned house. They’d done quite well for themselves, all things considered, seeing as they had a very well protected source of fresh water, though dwindling, and quite a stock of old canned goods and government issued nutrient bars. Despite that, illness had taken them too far by the time he’d gotten to them. There was nothing he could do to help them.

Despite this, they had been more than accommodating and had shown him nothing but kindness. He was able to have his first bath in weeks. On the road it was wipe downs and careful rationing, but a bath… now that was something he considered a slice of heaven. It wasn’t unheard of in places that had water filtration systems, but out here there weren’t many communities.

“‘Kuroo,’ was it?” The elderly woman had asked. He nodded meekly to her, his mask squished under his arm as he pulled his gloves from his pocket. “Thank you, Kuroo.” He stilled. It had been distressing to think she should thank him for anything, especially since he could do nothing to help her.

"I'm sorry," Kuroo had said. "The sickness has spread too deeply into your tissues..."

"I know," the woman replied. She didn't look scared, which surprised him. Most people, when faced with mortality, would suffer some sort of emotional outburst, whether it was crying or anger, but this woman showed grace and composure. It was incredible how strong humanity could be in dire situations, and it still gave him pause just thinking about it. His chest had tightened with such pain, and his face must have showed it, because the older woman smiled reassuringly and shook her head, as if to tell him it was okay.

The others, however, had not taken it as well when he had told them they shared the same fate and cried and clutched each other as the tears fell from their eyes.

Rust Sickness was a nasty little bug. It had nothing to do with rust, itself, but rather pulled its name from the red and orange colored spots that spread over the skin that looked like rust, much like psoriasis but infinitely more deadly. It was often fatal due to a lack of proper medical care available to the general population, and had exploded at exponential rates with the death of the surface of the Earth. Each tree that died and lake that dried up seemed to mark another spike in reported cases, and soon there was not enough medicine to stop the deaths.

The chapped skin was but a subtle indication of the turmoil that lie subcutaneously in the deep tissue, which would eventually lead to necrosis and would spread, in most cases, to the respiratory system. In rare cases, the infection could metastasize to the brain.

Logically, it was deemed an epidemic and classified as the second largest contributor to the eradication of humanity, second only to the drop off in natural resources.

People were drawn to look over their shoulders in paranoia, grasping at straws to stay alive and doing whatever they needed to for their children and families. Chaos had slowed significantly as time passed and more people died, but the instinct for self preservation remained and individuals clustered into small, tightly-knit groups. Yet, those strangers had treated him with the utmost respect and hospitality, as if there was nothing wrong in the world. They let him sleep and bathe, gave him food and water, and in return he provided them with medical advice and expertise, assisting in prolonging their lives if they wanted to delay their deaths. Some chose to thrive, and some chose to stay as they were and let the sickness take them.

They had been kind enough to bestow upon him some of their food, though he had refused to take it at first, but asked him to give it to someone who needed it if he wouldn’t eat it himself. He eventually gave in, promising them he’d pass on the generosity. It was rare to find such compassionate people in this world now, and it had truly hurt him to see them suffering.

Now, two months later, the food and water still weighted his pack considerably, a gentle reminder of the integrity of the human race he was trying to restore. It wasn’t cumbersome, though. If anything, it just felt like the heft of when his mission had first begun. It kept his muscles working, at least.

He gave one last look across the land towards the mountains—he could just barely make out its silhouette, now—before he pulled his gigantic travel pack from the ground. He slung the heavy thing over his shoulders, adjusting and securing the straps around his chest, as well. He stretched a little, ensuring mobility, before reaching up to tap a button on the side of his goggles. The world illuminated in green, night vision activating. He pulled a flap up on his forearm where his compass was strapped to his wrist, activating the low-level infrared on it as well so that he could see the readings, and trudged forward.

-o-o-o-o-o-

When the world came to an end, it wasn’t a giant meteor or trembling quakes that ripped the ground apart. It wasn’t zombies, it wasn’t a nuclear war, but came on at a sluggish pace, creeping at the edges of humanity as a rare occurrence… until it wasn’t. It was drying up crops and heating the surface of the Earth. It was sand storms and contaminated air and water. It was people tearing each other apart for resources. There wasn’t a single place on Earth that wasn’t polluted, and though society had advanced with technologies in utilizing what it had, it was simply a band-aid slapped over a wound that desperately needed a solution.

Despite ingenuity, no one was able to stop the soil from becoming contaminated. Nothing could grow. Great minds synthesized food and purified water, some revolutionizing the efficiency to feed mass amounts of people, but even that wasn’t enough. Resources were still limited, half of the world’s population starved to death, and then the Rust Sickness came, leaving cities and countryside alike abandoned. The heat only continued to rise as organic life decayed, inflicting desert-like conditions worldwide, and unkempt buildings eventually rotted away into crumbled heaps.

When he'd seen pictures of how the planet looked before the decline, he couldn't believe that something so colorful and vibrant could actually exist. All he had known was red and orange and grey, collapsing buildings and abandoned, rusting cars. He saw his first plant when he was 7, and though he couldn't touch it, he had pressed his face up against the glass in wide-eyed wonder and it became the pivotal turning point in his life, for in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

And here he was, trekking across barren wastelands in search of a place to reignite life. It wasn't a blind reach in the dark, however. This time they had a reputable lead, a confirmation that the place they were searching for actually existed: a place where plants could grow. The man had died getting the information to the organization. It was but a map delivered to them, a circle around a location with no explanation. Had they not known what he was searching for, it would have remained shrouded in mystery.

They never did find out what killed him. A distress signal had been released, and by the time they reached it, he was already gone. In the transmission, however, was embedded a message of where to find the map. It felt like some sort of adventure book, Kuroo had thought, except in this book, everyone seemed to die…

That’s why he had to do this.

If he could succeed, it would make each grueling layer of his life worth it.

He had spent tireless nights training, studying, depriving himself of sleep so he would be used to it by the time he actually set out on his mission. He was meticulously groomed for this since birth.

His aching feet reminded him just how far he’d been walking that night, screaming at him to stop lest they give out beneath him. He was so grateful to find that the building on his map was still standing—well, mostly, anyways. It was enough to give him what he needed for a rest.

The lock on the door was broken, of course, just like every other place he’d encountered, so he had to be cautious. He pulled his hood back to free his ears from interference and carefully unstrapped himself from his luggage, placing the pack down as gently as he could, given its weight, resting it against the stone wall. He surveyed the area with a quick glance again, clearing the visual perimeter before pulling a thick knife from the sheath attached to his boot. The door was structurally sound. That meant he would have to turn the knob as quietly as possible upon entry.

With his free hand, he pulled a small mirror from a cargo pocket on the side of his jacket, pushing his back up against the wall and taking a deep breath. Knife in hand, he slowly turned the knob until the door cracked inward. He slid the mirror into the crack and viewed the inside through it, twisting it slowly. The infrared showed nothing thus far, outlining a few boxes, a desk and chair, and then the room kept going where his mirror could not reach. He quickly reached for his goggles and pushed a button, the lenses now lighting up with a brighter, more colorful display to trace heat signatures. Darkness brought cooler air, and heat signatures registered very well… but they picked up nothing. Not even residual heat on the chair or table or boxes. The only area left was around that corner where he couldn’t see.

He would have to go in, prepared for the worst but hoping for the best.

Perhaps it was paranoia or the training ingrained into his very core, but he scanned over his shoulder one last time before sliding quietly into the abandoned building. He quickly peered around him, eliminating possibilities for a threat until he could finally, slowly, get a look around the corner. 

But there was nothing. He let a small sigh escape, easing his tense muscles. The room pushed back to reveal some storage boxes, but otherwise the place had been picked clean by scavengers, it appeared. He slid his knife back into place on his boot and went back to retrieve his pack. He hoisted it over one shoulder, almost surprised by how much heavier it seemed when he was so exhausted from travelling. 

He closed the thick door. The chain and pad lock outside had been broken, but the bolt inside was still intact, so he latched it with a satisfying click. He removed his gloves, pulling at each finger when the fabric clung to his damp skin until the whole thing popped off and the next one soon followed. He pushed his goggles up to rest on his forehead and rubbed the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. It felt like his skin hadn't been able to breathe in weeks.

He fished a small flashlight from a cargo pocket on his jacket, clicking it to life and slowly sweeping it from one side of the building to another. The dust from outside had largely been blocked by the door, leaving the small building a bit cleaner than most of the places he'd sought shelter in. The air also appeared cleaner than most buildings, the standing structure having still blocked most of the oppressive elements from beyond. This would do very well, indeed.

Sliding the pack from his stiff shoulders, he guided it down to the floor and leaned it against the wall. He couldn’t really fathom how he’d managed to lug this thing around for so long. How had his arms not fallen from his body? How had his spine not buckled beneath the weight? Well, perhaps he was being a little dramatic now. He always seemed to get more grumpy when he was tired…

He tossed his gloves on top of his pack, peeling his thick jacket off and draping it over a pile of boxes stacked by the door. The only sounds he could hear were the occasional hiss from his mask and the whistle of wind passing by the windows, but otherwise it was rather quiet. He wasn't sure if it made him feel relaxed or more anxious at this point.

Free of his burdensome second skin, he rolled his shoulders slowly and set out to take a closer look at his temporary home, moving the flashlight to illuminate the main room. It was bare save for some more boxes and a table. On the wall behind the table read "information," but he couldn't make out the name of the establishment itself on the worn wood. As he strolled around the room at a leisurely pace, inspecting every crevice with his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a picture hanging crooked, covered in dust. With his free hand, he pulled the frame from the wall, stuck the flashlight in his mouth to keep aim on the picture, and wiped the thick layer of dust from the smooth glass. It was a group of people dressed in uniforms proudly posed in front of a beautiful forest, vivid dark greens meshing with lighter emerald tones in patterns he could only imagine in his dreams.

It was so beautiful. The sky was blue with puffy white clouds, the trunks were a deep brown, and the ground was covered in grass that looked incredibly soft and inviting. He wondered if it would be as comfortable to lie in as it appeared.  He ran a thumb over the image, tracing the shape of the tree. How lucky these people had been. He squinted a little, pulling the object closer to his face to read the writing at the bottom. It listed names, presumably the ones of the employees pictured, and the date was embossed into the paper which read about 250 years prior.

That was a long, long time ago, he thought to himself. It was an obvious fact, but it still made him somber, resonating in his chest to pull him deeper into exhaustion.

With one last look, he set the picture on the table carefully, and left it alone to tend to his sleeping situation.

It was routine now, unhooking the padded wrap from his pack and unrolling it on the floor to get a restless sleep. He dragged his pack all the way over to the back corner, wedging it between the wall and where his feet would rest. He had begun to label his little makeshift sleeping arrangements as a "nest," and it somehow made it feel a bit cozier than what it really was: A pile of blankets and foam. He tilted his head as he looked at it. Was it a bird’s nest, or more of a rat’s nest? He pursed his lips and decided to leave that question unanswered in his head. He’d only seen pictures of the animals in books anyways, so perhaps it was a new breed of nest.

He shook his head. He was going crazy. These were the kinds of strange conversations that he would have in head with himself when he hadn’t spoken to people in a while. Would he even know how to have a conversation anymore if he happened upon other humans?

He was about to remove his boots when his mind suddenly pinged him an idea to push one of the big, heavy boxes in front of the door just for good measure. It wasn't much, but it would ease his mind a bit in case any strangely resilient humans were to stumble upon the place and try to break in. If anything, it would slow them down enough so that he could spring to action with a weapon. Out of curiosity, he lifted the top of the box to peer into its contents, but there were only stacks upon stacks of paper in more boxes. Such a waste… they had been trees once. He shut the lid again.

Finally, he let out a deep breath, toeing his boots off and collapsing onto his bed pile. His feet ached and he had to reach over to physically pull his legs up with his hands and set each foot on top of his huge pack. He practically ripped the goggles from his head, letting them rest by his side when he turned them off, and scrunched up his jacket to make a pillow. Once he was fully horizontal and feet propped up, his muscles began to relax and melt into the bedding. For a long moment, he couldn't even move, body spent beyond a point he could ever imagine. He was always impressed by how much he pushed himself... except once he stopped and felt like he had morphed into a ton of bricks.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, not that there was much to see, but he scanned the walls and ceiling absently nonetheless. The steady intake and hiss of his breathing through the mask was something of a rhythmic aid to his relaxation, now. He was tempted to remove the mask, being inside this building with far less debris swirling about to wreak havoc in his body... but it was not something he should risk when so much was riding on his shoulders.

At first, it had been very difficult to sleep in his mask, hardly getting a single wink when his journey had begun, but now his body had become used to the obstruction, so it wasn't too surprising that he was already dozing off. He managed to move just enough to pull his blanket up to cover himself, settling into a comfortable position before blacking out completely for the night. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

When he woke, his heart immediately began to race as his instincts kicked in to assess his surroundings. He sprung up and looked around, but there was nothing, of course. He eased back down, eyes still lingering around him before he relaxed again and stared at the ceiling in a sleepy daze. He pulled his wrist to his face, clicking a button on his watch to inspect the time. 5 hours of sleep? That wasn't so bad. He'd traveled until it was 2 am before he'd finally reached his rest stop, and his whole body screamed "five more minutes" at him.

"Ugh," he groaned at nothing in particular. His body was sore, as it always was, though the severity of it had diminished considerably as his body adjusted to his travels. Allowing himself just a few more moments to lie down, he looked at his map for the hundredth time, feeling a bit of excitement bubble up inside of him as it reiterated how close he was to reaching the target.

He pushed himself up, digging through his pack for some supplies. He had to wash up, clean his mask, and get back on the road as soon as possible. He was so close he could almost taste it.

He pulled his mask off, rubbing his face with clean water and a bit of soap, wiping a nice layer of dirt from himself. He should have done it last night, to be honest, but he was so exhausted he couldn't even bring himself to do it. It wasn't like it really made that much of a difference anyways. Everything was dirty. Always. If there was one thing he missed most from "home" it was definitely the ability to bathe submerged in water and have clean clothes.

Feeling a bit more refreshed now, he sprang up to complete his hygiene routine, stripping himself of all his clothes.

He’d chosen a little corner to clean up in. He was spilling water onto the bare floor, and he didn’t care about the floor itself, but part of him always felt guilty for wasting water to clean his body. Of course, hygiene was incredibly important, but he thought of all the people who probably didn’t even have water and it created a bit of turmoil in him. He had shown a few groups of people how to collect rain water and moisture from the air, as well as basic filtration systems and sterilizations, but he couldn’t help wondering if they were even still alive at this point. He forced his mind to continue on, humming a little tune to distract himself.

He allowed himself to air dry, pulling on some ‘new’ clothes after packing up his little sleep station. His clothes were dusty, as they always were, so he shook them out as best he could before pulling them back on. Man, if he could just get to this place and use a filtration system to wash his clothes… he’d be so happy. His mask was scrubbed and rinsed, so now it was time to search his pack for something to eat before he had to strap the damn thing back onto his poor face. His stomach liked to remind him that he was, in fact, still human and needed sustenance.

“Let’s see… nutrient bars, more nutrient bars, canned beans, pickled… something?” He squinted at the label. It had been rubbed off over time, and so had the expiration date. He probably shouldn’t risk it. “Ah, Kuroo, humanity’s last hope, killed by expired goods.”

Hmm. That seemed logical, even probable in this world. Perhaps the joke was a little too close to home. Deciding to go with the safe route, he picked the nutrient bar, even though he’d had it for what seemed like months now. When resources dwindled, companies had revolutionized food in many ways, figuring out how to feed large masses of people with very little. It reminded him of something he’d read in a book called “lembas bread,” although he imagined it probably tasted a lot better than this. He hadn’t tasted much other than nutrient bars, actually, so he didn’t have much to compare it to either way.

It was time to wrap things up and stop procrastinating.

He brushed his teeth with a dried clay powder he’d helped develop at the lab that helped retain enamel and still cleaned the teeth. It wasn’t as great as ‘toothpaste’ from what he understood, but it was certainly enough and replaced lost nutrients. He rinsed his mouth, rinsed his toothbrush, and set to packing up the last of his belongings.

Once everything was tucked away and ready to go, Kuroo stretched to warm up his muscles and hoisted his pack onto his back. Today was the day. Today he would get to his destination and finally start the rebirth of the world. The thought was invigorating, giving him a sense of renewed energy and determination. He pulled on his mask, securing it to his face, and then finally his goggles, and set out on his way.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The only problem, though, was that the location was approximate. He didn't know what he should expect, but he couldn't help hoping for a beautiful oasis in the middle of the destruction. The likelihood was improbable, of course, but even he as a man of science wished it to be true.

The closer he got to the location, the more anxious he became. He hadn’t seen any difference in landscape or atmosphere yet, nothing that would indicate he was getting close to his goal or any sign of, well, anything. He chewed his lip behind his mask in absent worry.

He had now arrived at the marker on the map and there was still nothing as far as the eye could see.

His stomach plummeted as reality slowly sank in. Dread washed over him, rippling down his arms all the way to his fingers where he clutched the map and looked about.

No.

The information had to be true. There was no reason for it not to be when humans were at the threshold of extinction and they’d all risked everything for this. It had to be here...

Perhaps he'd navigated incorrectly and he wasn't really where he was supposed to be? Had he misread the markings? Or maybe he messed up somewhere along the way?

He searched the map again, comparing the marks and terrain with everything around him... but he wasn't incorrect. He was facing the cliffs and shark rocks of a canyon that enveloped him and tapered to flatland behind him, the wild slabs of metamorphic earth spiking every which way up towards the heavens, as if some hellish battle had taken place between gods. Though sheltered from most of the winds, he couldn't fathom how this could be different from anywhere else. There was still red and orange, there was still crumbling, and there was still nothing.

He wasn't prepared for the way this realization would hit him. For the first time in a long while, tears pricked at his eyes and his breath hitched as the burden of frustration and hopelessness weighted his soul. After all their searching, after all of their last resources were piled into his heavy backpack, and after all the merciless training he'd undergone to get to this moment... there was nothing.

What was happening?

His mask hissed slowly as he forced himself to calm his breathing. He couldn’t let himself lose his cool. He’d panicked, yes, but he reminded himself that he didn't have time for that, that he still had a duty to fulfill, even if they had to start back at square one. He had trained for all possibilities, and losing himself to emotions was never part of that.

He took another look around, looking for any discrepancy he may have missed or any kind of clue that could give him a lead.

In preparation, and as somewhat of a motivator for himself, he pulled his pack down to the ground and sifted through his supplies to pull out a few tubes for collecting soil samples. He tucked them securely into the cargo pockets on his jacket for easy access. Though there wasn't any foliage that he could see, there had to be something here if his comrade had sworn up and down that there was growth. It had to be hidden somewhere, and he had to use his head to find it.

He looked for anything out of place, stirring up dust piles and moving rocks just to find something that could give him a clue. He examined the landscape for quite a long time, moving from one side of the canyon to the next, canvassing the entire area as much as he could. He walked up the little hills and back down, but every step he took began to feel heavier and heavier. Frustration was mounting again. He kicked at another little mound of dirt, a small burst of anger erupting from his core.

And did a double take. The dirt looked... a little different. It was subtle, really, but it was a bit darker, a bit thicker.

Maybe he was imaging it? His mind could very well be playing tricks on him out of desperation for his mission. There was only one way to find out, though. He shrugged his pack off his shoulders, setting it beside him. He slowly crouched, the hiss of his mask sounding louder than usual, as if all his senses had heightened as adrenaline began to rise in his body. He pulled one of the tubes from his jacket pocket in anticipation, reaching down with a gloved finger to rub into the dirt.

His eyes widened. He wasn't imagining it. It looked damp, felt pliant underneath his fingertip, and the more he pushed the red aside, the deeper and richer the brown became. He had to wiggle his finger down quite deep, but the red eventually faded completely. He popped the top from the tube, pushing the lip of the plastic carefully into the darkened soil and dug little bits of the damp dirt out and into the tube, heart pounding in his ears.

Something hard pressed against the back of his head and he froze.

"Don't move.”

If he thought his heart was pounding before, it was thundering now.

A click sounded near his ear, the cocking of the gun that was currently pointed at him.

"Put your hands up slowly. Don't make any sudden movements or the last thing you'll be seeing is your brain coming out of your forehead." It was a very unpleasant, intimidating visual, especially said with such a deep and sure voice, but he couldn’t discern if the threat was empty or full of promise. He looked up from the ground slowly, his hands rising with a matching pace in compliant surrender. He could see two men moving in front of him, coming in to surround him. One man had a shaved head, a scary face, and swung a bat in his hands like it was another limb, an extension of his person. Another, smaller boy—though looking equally as fierce—had no weapon but looked as if he might be more of a threat than the bald one. Was he a kid?

"Stand up," the deep voice from before commanded.

He obeyed, keeping his hands up as he rose to his feet carefully and turned to face his opponent.

"Don't turn around!" He quickly stopped, but not before he was able to catch enough of a glimpse to let him know there were two other men, including the man holding the gun to his head, and the other standing much farther back on the top of a small hill he’d just traversed moments earlier. That made four men he'd have to get through to get out of here. They were all wearing bandannas over their mouths, presumably to help keep the particles out of their lungs rather than to look like some sort of ruffian gang. He couldn’t blame them for trying, but he couldn't die here. Only two of the men had guns, one a hand gun and the other a rifle, but the other two didn’t.... It wasn't ideal...

...but it wasn't impossible.

He ducked and whirled around, sweeping his leg underneath his offender, effectively knocking him down. He moved with fluid quickness, turning his kinetic energy into a low roll so he could grab the gun from the surprised man. He heard a gunshot ring out into the air, and hoped to whatever gods might be out there that a bullet hadn’t hit him. He didn’t have time to check and adrenaline would keep him from knowing for sure anytime soon.

The man with the bat and the small one were already on his tail, the bat swinging and narrowly missing Kuroo's arm by a mere inch. He grabbed it as it still swung in motion and pushed it in the same direction to fling the owner with it. He spun his whole body and kicked the other in the stomach, sending him tumbling backwards just as the one he'd tripped came out of nowhere and jumped on his back. The force almost knocked the gun from his hand, barely managing to hold onto it. He grunted into his mask, a hiss escaping the filter as he moved with the force of the man on his back and sent him face first towards the ground, twisting out of his grasp.

A hand was around his ankle, pulling hard to trip him but he was faster, twirling from the grip with a firm kick to his opponent’s wrist. There was a frustrated and pained growl as the bald man grabbed his throbbing appendage with a hiss. Kuroo was already clawing to pull the smaller kid off of him, who’d flung himself forward and hooked onto him, the intensity of the yank making his arm ache and sending Kuroo to the ground.

The man with a rifle was closing the distance between them, now, coming in for backup. Kuroo was panting with his exertion already. Tossing around three grown men, even using their own movement against them, was already sapping his strength. 

But he'd never give up.

He rolled again with all his might, throwing the kid off of him and switching their grips so that Kuroo was now grabbing the other's arm instead, and pulling it hard behind his back. He cried out in pain. He had to get out of here. He shoved against the kid as hard as he could, launching himself up in the process to make a run for it. 

The rifle was raised at him, but he aimed his gun as well and shot first. The bullet collided with the rifleman's leg and a strangled yell filled his ears.

"ENNOSHITA!" The kid called, scrambling to his feet to run to him.  _One down_ , he thought. He whipped around, just in time to dodge a fist that almost landed on his jaw. He’d felt the wind from it on his cheek. No doubt he wanted his handgun back, now didn’t he? He grabbed the arm flying past his face and pulled hard with a spin, flinging his entire body towards the dust. The man with the shaved head threw a kick, Kuroo blocked with his forearms and pushed up, sending him backwards.

This was his moment. They were both on the ground and their comrades were occupied out of reach. Kuroo sprinted with all his power towards his pack. He could shoot them if they tried to come after him when he ran. His main priority was getting out of there alive _with_ his pack.

Suddenly, a great force was slamming into him, Kuroo's breath was knocked from his lungs, and his eyes were unexpectedly pointing up at the sky, sparkles igniting in his vision. The pain in his side told him he'd been hit in the ribs, probably with a bat, and he'd fallen and rolled onto his back. Another blow came directly to his temple, a fist this time, and the gun fell from his grasp.

"Tanaka, wait! Don't kill him."

"Why? He shot Ennoshita in the leg, Daichi!"

"Calm down,” Daichi said, swinging the bat up to rest on his shoulders. “He didn't want to kill him or he'd be dead, don't you think?" They were all panting, chests heaving with the effort spent fighting each other off. The one called Tanaka looked at him and then back to the other. "He's obviously highly trained and his gear is abnormally high tech. Something is strange here..."

Kuroo glared at them through his goggles, gritting his teeth in anger. The logic was sound and now he was frustrated with himself for having gotten into this situation. He should have checked the perimeter again! He should have looked around more carefully, constantly looking over his shoulder like he normally did. He'd just been so excited... stupid fool. He exhaled something between a frustrated sigh and an angry groan, slamming his fist into the ground beside him.

The man named Daichi stepped on his wrist, aiding the other in keeping him down.

"I still think we should kill him. Let's just take his stuff and get out of here. What if he tells someone?"

It looked as if Daichi was considering it, now, though he could be mistaken what with his current inability to see anything with the dizziness that was making everything move strangely.

Kuroo was still panting, his chest puffing with every breath, and the filter in his mask released a long, deep wheeze trying to keep up with his respiration.

"Daichi! Ennoshita is losing blood. We need to get him inside!"

Inside where? There wasn't even anything around here. He tried to look, but Daichi pushed his cheek with the toe of his boot, warning him not to move.

"Noya, go bring him in. Quick." He called to the two, who obliged immediately. Noya lifted the injured Ennoshita to his feet and helped him limp slowly beyond the hill. "Tanaka, help me tie him up. We're bringing him with us."

"Are you serious? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

"I do." He said, closing his eyes, as if doubting himself again. "But something tells me we need to interrogate him. There’s something off about this guy.”

There was a long pause, the wind howling around them. Without further argument, Kuroo was pushed onto his stomach and his arms were yanked behind his back. His mask bit into his face painfully as Daichi's foot shoved his head into the ground, preventing him from fighting back while the other secured him.

There were a few more rough yanks at his arms as Tanaka pulled his wrists together and tied them tightly with rope.

"Grab his backpack." They pulled Kuroo up and he stumbled a bit. The one with the shaved head trotted over to his pack and grabbed it.

"Holy shit. This thing is heavy." The strain could be heard in his voice as he struggled to pull it all the way over both shoulders. "What the hell is in this thing?" He grunted again, wiggling beneath the straps to adjust to the weight.

Daichi shoved him forward, a hand firmly clasped on the restraints at his wrists.

"Don’t try anything funny," he said to Kuroo.

Without warning, something was covering his goggles, pulled tightly around his head and tied at the back to obstruct his view.

Perhaps they wouldn’t kill him now, but there was certainly no guarantee on what they’d do once they got what they wanted from him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked the first chapter. I hope it wasn't boring, since there is soooooooo much information that is being vomited at you. Please comment and let me know what you think! I hope the last part got you a bit excited to see where things go and how everything will tie together! Than k you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter is dedicated to the cutest babe on the planet, Daiwakaroo (justforbadfriends on tumblr). You’re the best cheerleader ever and you kept me going! 
> 
> She also made the MOST precious fanart for the first chapter and it captures the moment so well. I’m honored, and I still look at it on my phone every day. I’m obsessed.
> 
> Please see below! If you can't see the image, please go look at it here:
> 
> https://justforbadfriends.tumblr.com/post/178416606092/based-on-the-first-chapter-of-thepharaohs

_From Chapter 1 - Kuroo sees his first plant._

-o-o-o-o-o-

The bandanna over his goggles was starting to annoy him. The deep seeded guilt and frustration in him were battling one another; he’d failed humanity by being so foolish as to get caught. He’d _just_ collected that sample of soil that could have given him another clue as to where he needed to go.

…The soil! The soil was in the tube outside! And now it was wasted and would wash away with the incessant winds that beat down upon the earth. How stupid he had been. He clenched his fists bound to his back, feeling the sharp bite at the flesh in his palms despite his heavy gloves. There was absolutely no way he could let this be the end of everything. He would do anything in his power to escape, no matter what the cost…

But first, he thought, he needed to cool his hot head and start learning any information he could, including every step he took at that current moment. Any possible clues that would aid in his escape later would be vital to his survival.

He tried to tilt his head back to see under the bandanna, but his head was shoved down.

"Tsk." He sighed. What was the likelihood that they _wouldn’t_ kill him? He wasn't sure how they'd react when they went through his pack. He was certain they'd take all of his food and water, and probably take his goggles and mask...  but he doubted they'd know what to do with all of his scientific equipment. When they realized all the flaps and fabric on his backpack were flexible solar panels used to charge most of his items, he imagined they'd take that as well. There was a whole slew of technology in there that was unavailable to civilians. He’d have to decree the absolute necessities to his mission when he was escaping and only take those items when he ran… Would they let him go if they realized he was trying to help humanity?

Or maybe they'd think he was lying?

He jolted forward as he missed some footing.

"There's a step there."

Was that amusement in the other's—Daichi, wasn’t it?—voice? What a little brat... He heard something that sounded like metal scraping against metal, and now that he was pulled from his dismal mind, he realized the ground beneath him, though covered in dirt, did feel much harder than it had earlier...

An underground hideout? Ah, so maybe that's why he hadn’t seen them coming. Then again, that didn't really explain all that much. Underground bases were not that uncommon. Many people had sought out places like bomb shelters, but everyone ran out of resources eventually and were either driven out or died of Rust Sickness. What would make this place different, if anything? The men he’d encountered seemed healthy enough. None of them looked particularly pale and none of them had shown any signs of Rust Sickness.

He wondered how many people were down here. Six? Ten? Ten would be the largest group he'd seen since leaving the labs at the capitol. That would be quite a feat, but he shouldn't get his hopes up. This could be a group like any other he'd encountered. Most of them would probably be dying, and they'd probably kill him off too, if not for necessity then simply for ease of operation. That’s how most communities worked in this life: kill or be killed.

He felt the sensation of walking downward, a metal ramp of some sort that was quite sturdy and he thought he could hear voices farther down, hushed among the shuffle of their feet as they trudged down. There was definitely a commotion, no doubt because of the injured man named Ennoshita. Oh boy... He might get a bit man handled out of anger for their comrade. He would have to prepare himself for some hard fists, knees, and elbows to every inch of his body. He couldn’t help feel a bit of tension rising between his shoulders.

The sound of a door swinging open gave way to quite a lot of noise. He was shoved forward again. He was getting really tired of being pushed around and he tried to shrug the hand off his shoulder, but it just resulted in another hard shove.

"Is that him? Why would you bring him here?!" Someone asked, horrified.

"Hey, Daichi knows what he's doing." It was that Tanaka fellow, some interestingly confident words from someone who was just questioning the other guy earlier. And yet, he probably meant it. He probably trusted this guy so wholeheartedly that he really wouldn't ask questions if told not to. Was it out of fear or was it trust?

Never mind that. How the hell would he escape from an underground base? It was going to be much more difficult to navigate and break free of something that was unpredictable.

He could hear hushed whispers as the commotion died down more.

And then he heard it: the deep, bronchial coughs of someone who had Rust Sickness. It was farther from the rest of the voices, muffled by something, isolated from the rest of the group. He turned his head instinctively towards the sound, his mind immediately running through diagnoses on how long the person had been infected, how far the infection had possibly spread...

Kuroo had to stop himself from making a strangled noise as hands came to his body and patted him down. He knew they were checking for weapons but, wow, it was a strange sensation when he hadn’t been touched for so long. It was very uncomfortable. They emptied his jacket pockets, took his gloves, and even found the knife strapped to his boot despite its camouflage design built in.

The bandanna was ripped from his face, pulling him from his thoughts. His eyes frantically searched his surroundings, but he was already in a room that looked to be a holding cell, and when the door closed behind them, the loud voices from beyond dimmed. His goggles were pulled up and over his head and his mask soon followed. He recoiled out of habit, dreading the contaminated air that would follow.

Until it didn't.

In fact, it was rather clean. He sniffed, then again deeper. It was clean? It was the cleanest, freshest air he'd ever smelled. He could only describe it as crisp and light, and maybe even damp.

He began to feel light headed. 

He turned when they finally let him go, though his wrists remained bound. They shoved him into the cell and shut the door with a heavy click. He was met with two angry sets of eyes, recognizing them both from the surface fight.

The man with the shaved head had an even scarier face now, though for some reason he felt a little like laughing at it instead of being intimidated. Maybe it was the air going to his head? The man stood with his arms crossed and his legs spread in a wide stance that was perhaps supposed to make him look bigger? Or was he going for crazy?

The other—Daichi—looked calm and dangerous. It sent a little chill up his spine when he locked eyes with dark brown that looked pitch black in the dim light of the room. Daichi was sizing him up, safely from a distance of course, determining if he was a threat.

"Feel free to take a picture."

He didn't look amused. "No one has cameras anymore."

Kuroo blinked. He was completely caught off guard by that response. He had absolutely no idea how to take it. Bluntness? Didn't know how to joke? Or...?

"Oh, so you do want a picture. I'm flattered." He grinned.

"Shut it, city boy." It was Tanaka, frowning even deeper at him.

City boy? How presumptuous… even if it was accurate.

"You're awfully chatty for someone in a tight spot." It was Daichi this time.

"Might as well enjoy myself before you kill me and take all my shit."

The eyebrows on Daichi's face shot up, as if that notion shocked him, but he didn't deny it. Kuroo couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, finally able to get a clean look at everything around the room. It was dark and dreary, to be sure, but it was not quite what he expected, either. There were lights: bona fide, electricity-lit, bulb in socket lights. Very interesting indeed, this place. It wasn’t unfathomable that these folks could get their hands on some tech, but it was still surprising once one factored in maintenance and actually knowing how to use it all to create the final product.

There was wiring strung against the stone wall and suspended out to the lights that hung high towards the ceiling. It reminded him of something he’d see in a mining shaft, but upgraded. Ah, very resourceful. His interest was piqued. That would explain the dampness and dirt.

The dirt, in fact, was that rich brown he’d seen up top, the kind he was trying to take a sample of… But if was all the way down here, he was no longer sure it was of any real value after all. Just because it was a rare color and consistency didn’t mean there was anything that special about it, and he hadn’t seen a damn plant in sight when he was up there searching. He needed to find out and see for himself whether there was something special here in the soil. The map wouldn’t have been marked for this place had there been nothing here. Damp soil, however, was not uncommon as there were still rain storms that blew through on a regular basis.

The rains had become something of an “acid rain” by all accounts, showering down pollution and chemicals that had built up over time in the atmosphere and rivers and lakes. That tainted water only sped the death of soil further, more quickly, mercilessly, and so it would have likely seeped down into the soil down here by now. At least, that’s how it was everywhere else. They’d tested many miles of soil from everywhere they could reach and Kuroo wasn’t the first scientist to be sent out to find a cure for the dying Earth. They’d traversed so many landscapes in all directions stemming from the capitol, and no samples ever came back with anything other than lifeless, chemical-ridden soil.

At the same time, it also led them here. Though their team member had died before getting to them, his mission was as explicit as everyone else’s: to find a place where plants could potentially grow. He’d given them this damn map, he’d circled this specific spot, and he died for a reason. There had to be something.

“What were you doing out there?” That deep, sure voice jerked him from his thoughts and he came to rest his eyes on Daichi.

“Travelling,” he replied. “If you haven’t inferred based on my pack.”

“You’ve been canvassing our land for hours. It seems there is more to your ‘travelling.’”

“Your land, is it? I didn’t realize there were stately boundaries. My apologies.” Not a single word in his response was anything other than sarcasm. What was possessing him to goad these men on and walk a tight rope was beyond even himself. He wouldn’t go down without a fight… or some amusement. In fact, he’d make it as difficult as possible for them on his way down to hell.

“I’ll ask you one more time: What were you doing?”

He looked around, hoping rather than expecting that there may be a chair that he could sit upon in his cell. He was exhausted, not only from the fight, but the ten mile walk with a ridiculously heavy bag. Alas, there was no chair, and nowhere could he rest. He would have to sit on the bare, dirty floor if he wanted to do it.

Was honesty the best policy here? It was difficult to ascertain their intentions; were they tyrants or were they a clan just trying to be cautious? He pursed his lips, hesitating before he answered.

“I was taking samples of the soil.” He leaned against the door of the cell casually, flexing his fingers behind his back to keep the circulation flowing to his bound hands.

The answer obviously confused them.

“And why would you do that?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Tsk.” Tanaka was clearly getting frustrated. “We should just leave him here and deal with him later.”

“Hmm,” Daichi hummed in what sounded like contemplation, balancing his options, whatever they may be.

“We should see how Ennoshita is doing. This guy’s not going anywhere.”

“What an astute observation,” he quipped.

This time it was Daichi who looked irritated. A long silence drew out between them all until finally Daichi broke the silence and turned around to walk out. Tanaka gave Kuroo one last look before taking his leave as well. The door opened to a much brighter area outside, but he wasn’t able to get a good glance at anything before it closed again and he was left in the quietness alone.

He held himself completely motionless, waiting a few moments to see if anyone would come back before he sighed and slumped into himself, pulling an arm across his chest to stretch his sore shoulder. What a mess he’d gotten himself into. With his adrenaline slowly fading, the sharp pain in his ribs was becoming more and more painful. They were most definitely broken. He’d have to thank Daichi later.

He wiggled his arms a bit, ignoring the flares of pain, until he was able to get a better feel of the ropes, how they were tied, and if he could slide them off. It was a very nice knot for spur of the moment, but it was extremely unlikely he’d get them off with conventional methods. He flicked his wrist, freeing his watch from its flap in his jacket. He wasn’t sure how they’d missed it when frisking him earlier, but he attributed it to his bulky coat, and he’d never been more grateful because that meant he didn’t have to dislocate his thumb just to get out of some ropes.

His fingers skimmed over the buttons and crevices of his watch, feeling for a distinct groove, pushing on it and a small, flat blade popped free. Cautiously, he maneuvered it downward and began to saw at his bindings.

His watch had more than just a blade in it. In addition to the infrared he used at night, it contained his compass, displayed his health ratings—including heart rate, temperature, hydration levels, and oxygen levels in his blood—and contained flint and a scraper for starting a fire. The band itself was paracord that, when unraveled, was over 12 feet long and could hold up to 550 pounds.

His wrists finally jerked free as the last strand of rope gave out and he flexed his fingers in front of him as the blood rushed back to the tips. He carefully clicked the knife back into place.

His eyes drifted along his cell again, and his mind slowly processed everything before stopping on the most logical course of action: It was time to strip.

If the air felt this good to inhale, he could only imagine what it would feel like on his poor, deprived skin. He was unzipping his noisy coat already, a tiny bit of excitement electrifying his chest. He could take off his shirt too, and his shoes! He could take off _everything_ and bask in the air that felt as clean as the filtered stuff back at the capitol! Well, maybe not everything… He might give his hosts a little too much of bad vibe if he did that, and he was already skating on thin ice with them.

Alright, he could take _most_ of his clothes off and bask in the clean air.

He set his jacket on the floor, the inside facing up so he could sit on it. He flicked his wrist a bit, taking a gander at his watch and tabbing through his health percentages. His oxygen levels were steadily rising, his heart rate was quicker than it should have been, and his hydration was far too low… The lovely roll in the hay earlier was mostly to blame, and the residual pain would only continue to exacerbate his situation.

When cool air started to permeate through the tight cotton-polyester compression shirt and he could finally feel it against his skin, he let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. It felt so incredible and he hadn’t even taken off his shirt yet. He quickly sat to remove his boots, practically flinging them— _and_ his socks—away from him; it an oppression he’d had to endure for months on end. He had to stop himself from moaning aloud as he wiggled his toes and looked at his poor, swollen feet. Months of travelling had certainly taken a toll on him.

He peeled his shirt from his body, dropping it beside him. It wouldn’t be terribly offensive if they walked in and saw him relaxing, would it? He couldn’t care right now, he decided, because this was the freest he’d felt since leaving the lab.

Who knew it would come in a jail cell?

He spread out and sank against the cool ground, looking up at nothing and, for once, being completely content with it. It was like his body had pressed ‘restart’ and was absorbing the fresh air. Fresh air… what a strange concept, now. He imagined they had some sort of filtration system that was hooked up to the shelter. It was not impossible, but it was definitely a surprise. He didn’t really care to mull on the specifics for now, letting himself enjoy this comfort for as long as he could.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“It’s amazing, actually. The bullet missed all major arteries,” Suga said, washing his hands in a metal bin on the counter. There were blood stained cloths in another, larger bin next to it, carefully contained. He’d already cleaned the table and Ennoshita had been moved to a bed that was flush up against the wall.

“He’ll be alright?” Daichi asked, worry furrowing his brow as he looked down at his sleeping comrade. His face was pale and covered in sweat, and Kiyoko was sitting beside him, dabbing his face with a clean wash cloth.

“Definitely. He passed out, though… and he’s going to be sore for a while.” Suga was looking over his shoulder at the bed, drying his hands. With pain medication and anesthesia impossible to find, it was common for people to go unconscious from physical pain, and Ennoshita was no different. Daichi turned, giving Kiyoko’s shoulder a grateful squeeze.

“I don’t think it was by some miracle that he missed,” Daichi said. Suga fixed him with an expectant stare.

“What are you saying?” He shifted his weight to one foot, hand rising and to rest on his hip.

“I’m saying this guy is not normal. I think he purposefully avoided any major damage when he shot Ennoshita. He’s obviously highly trained, especially in combat. He was outnumbered four to one and he still almost got away, but what is even stranger was that he was taking soil samples.”

Suga’s thick, silver eyebrows shot up to his forehead. “Taking soil samples?” He repeated in disbelief. “What, is he some kind of scientist?”

Daichi frowned. In all the excitement, he hadn’t even taken a moment to consider the implications of what ‘taking a soil sample’ meant, and now he felt a little sheepish. It was a simple deduction from the evidence and should have occurred to him early on, but somehow, he was very reluctant to quantify this individual just yet.

“I don’t know. He’s not exactly forthcoming with information.”

“Well, why don’t we offer him some hospitality and see if he warms up to us?”

Suga had a way of putting things very simply and a logical mind that dissected information to bring forth sometimes glaringly simple solutions. Daichi shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, sighing with self frustration.

“That’s one option. I think we should go through his pack first.”

“Like a backpack?”

“Yeah. But it’s… Again, it’s not normal. Tanaka could hardly bring it in, it’s so heavy.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed and pursed his lips together in thought. “Well, it’s a start. Let’s go find out.” Daichi nodded in return.

“Will you be ok here by yourself?” Daichi asked, turning to the beautiful ebony haired girl at Ennoshita’s side.

“Yes.” She offered him a small smile. “But you should probably let Nishinoya back in. He didn’t want to leave him.” Daichi couldn’t help but smile back and gave her a curt nod.

The two of them walked out of the medical bay and back towards the common room. Noya was waiting, of course, and immediately perked up at the sight of them, his feet carrying him swiftly to their side. An orange head of messy hair bobbed right behind him, like a shadow, until splitting off to become its own entity. It was as if one person had multiplied into two with Hinata so quick to follow his footsteps.

Before either of them could speak, Daichi was lifting his hands in surrender. “He’s fine. Shimizu is helping him get some rest right now.”

“Can we see him?” Noya asked, looking uncharacteristically worried.

Daichi gave them a hard, serious stare. “Only if you promise not to wake him up. He needs to recover.”

Both Hinata and Noya gave a resolute salute, and though it was comical, it was genuine. Their boisterous energy was exhausting, but it was also incredibly welcome with such a dismal world just beyond their small haven. There was no shortage of hard work, and the camaraderie their group had established was in part due to the positive vibrancy of their personalities keeping gloom at bay. The two somehow managed to turn almost any arduous task something fun, perhaps for their own sanity, or maybe they were simply special humans that were incredibly rare these days.

The two younger boys slipped past and beyond as quickly as they’d come.

Suga clapped him on the shoulder. They needed to get to the bottom of this mysterious traveler as quickly as possible. His arrival had stirred unrest, and many of their members were apprehensive about a foreign entity in their midst. He had to decide what he had to do with this man; was he a threat or could he be a valuable member of their community?

It wasn’t the first time they’d taken in a stray, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last…

Daichi led Suga out of the common area towards the back of the shelter. They followed a long corridor into a small room which split off into two doors: the door to the holding cells on one side, and their resource room on the other.

They pushed past the heavy door to the left into a large room where they kept all of their survival gear and emergency supplies. They kept everything from ropes and blankets to scavenged medical kits and weapons there. There were sets of jackets and thick clothes for colder months, tools and parts for repairs, extra sleeping rolls, and an emergency stock of food. It was here that they had dumped the pack and here it sat untouched waiting for appraisal.

“Well… You weren’t kidding. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.” The bag came up to his hip, and to it was strapped a bedroll horizontally across the midsection. The bag was covered in neatly arranged pockets, all ordained with flaps and, though dusty, looked as if it hadn’t seen much wear and tear. That was strange, indeed. Most fabrics and baggage were worn with holes and thinning in sections from years of friction and travel. The red-brown color was obviously purposeful, designed to blend easily with the surrounding world outside, and the straps were heavily padded and there were buckles that would strap across the user’s chest to better distribute weight. It was clearly specifically engineered for long travel, durability, and for a specific purpose. It was perhaps even tailored to the user exactly.

“Well!” Suga clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly, as if he was about to partake in a feast. “Let’s see what’s inside!” Somehow Daichi felt like maybe he’d created a monster…

They both sank down to be more level with the bag, Daichi crouching at one side and Suga propped onto his knees on the other. Though Suga immediately dove in, unzipping the top flap to peer inside, something caught Daichi’s eye now that he was closer. This fabric was not a fabric he was familiar with. In fact, he’d never seen anything like it before. He carefully inspected the texture with his fingers, rubbing his thumb over a flap on a pocket. He couldn’t really identify what made it so strange, though there was something almost glossy in the fibers.

“Whhhaaaaattt the heck is this stuff?” Suga said, pulling his attention up to the contents of the bag. He peered over with him, tilting his head slightly. It was very well organized, to say the least, but what struck them more was the amount of tech inside. There were things they’d never seen before, and there were things that were familiar, but all of them were strange.

“Is this a microscope?”

“Scientist! Called it!”

“But how could he power it? And what is he looking for?” Daichi asked. The tech itself was rather compact and light and other pieces of technology accompanied it. All the pieces had the same design, like a matching set of items that somehow worked together in ways he couldn’t comprehend. Daichi reached down to sift through interior side pockets and pulled out some plastic bags tightly wrapped in little packets. He couldn’t tell what was in them, not that he would even understand it at all, so he set it on the ground and continued to sift through the other items. There were more plastic bags, though they all contained rather mundane things like toothbrushes and soaps and the like; typical survival items anyone would see. It kept going on for what seemed like forever. There were canned goods and packages of water, ropes and knives, tools and clothing. And nutrient bars… so many nutrient bars. There were tools for filtration and wires and tactical gear… His head was starting to spin.

No wonder it was so heavy.

“What are those?” Suga asked, sticking an arm down the gut of the pack and pulling from a side pocket a large bag that contained even more, tiny bags. Daichi pulled it closer to his face, thumbing the package carefully.

“It’s… medicine?” Daichi said.

They stared at each in silence for a moment, a million questions going through their minds.

“Like, what? Aspirin? That would be a huge help.”

“I don’t know. Seems like the most logical answer.”

Suga pursed his lips, staring at the bag in his hand. Daichi was right: This was no ordinary man.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Suga stood, dusting off his hands, then wiping them on his pants. Daichi followed suit. His eyes flittered over to where the confiscated goggles and mask hung off the shelves next to the bag. He moved over to them, lifting the mask in one hand and rolled it around to inspect it. He put it up to his face, looking through the lenses. If he hadn’t seen the buttons on the side, he would not have known there was anything special about them. He pressed the button and immediately yanked it from his face. “Ow. Night vision.” He rubbed his eyes a little, then looked back at the goggles, keeping it at a distance and pushing the button again. “Heat vision…?” He asked, moving them around the room. “Wow. This is some crazy stuff. I wonder how he got all of this.”

“And how he keeps it powered,” Daichi added.

Suga released the goggles in favor of the filtration mask, inspecting it just as thoroughly. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Impressive.”

“That’s what I was thinking when I was looking at them earlier.” Daichi shifted his weight onto his other foot. “Let’s go talk to him.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Heavy doors cracked open, shining bright light directly into Kuroo’s eyes, a harsh contrast to the dim light he’d become accustomed to in this dark cell. He squinted against it, a hand coming up reflexively to shield his face. He could see two silhouettes, and even just by the outlines he could tell one of these individuals he had never met before. When the door closed behind them and his eyes adjusted, they were looking at him with very perplexed faces.

He’d put his undershirt back on, but he was still wiggling his toes in the free air and pulled his hands behind his head as he leaned back.

“Welcome back! I was just starting to get bored.”

A quick look at Kuroo and Daichi was not only incredulous, but also irritated. Kuroo waved at him, clearly flaunting the lack of ropes around his wrists. How the hell…? He did his best to keep the emotions off of his face, but he was failing miserably.

Accompanying Daichi was a new person, silver haired and thin by comparison of Daichi who was more filled out and looked thick with muscle, much like himself. His ribs ached deeply from the bat to his side, which reminded him:

“I think you broke my ribs,” he said, when no one moved to speak first.

“You shot at my men.” He quipped in return, eyebrow raising slightly. Well, there went their plan of showing hospitality and kindness…

“I could have delivered a bullet to each of you if I wanted to.” Kuroo stared him down, but it wasn’t intimidating so much as matter-of-fact. The silver haired man and Daichi looked at each other again, Daichi with a bit of an “I told you so” aura, and Suga pursing his lips into a tight line. “But more importantly,” he continued, “how am I supposed to carry my pack, now?”

“Bold of you to think you’ll be leaving this place with it.” Daichi received a smirk that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. It made him bristle on the defense and he crossed his arms over his chest. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Go ahead. I’m an open book.”

They seemed to ruminate on this for a moment, not sure if he was telling the truth or not. Was it really that easy? There was so much tension in this room that it was palpable, he could taste it on his tongue, even as he formed the questions he wanted to ask.

“Where are you from?” The silver haired one started the onslaught of questions.

“The capitol.”

Both of their expressions turned to surprise. After the fall of humanity, each country had receded into themselves and state lines and borders disappeared. Eventually, each continent only had one or two capitols where the governments had attempted to keep things afloat, but almost all of them had perished.

“The capitol is a long way from here…” Daichi said, musing on something a little deeper. “Is that why you have so many government-issued nutrient bars?”

“I see you’ve been rifling through my pack. How rude.” Kuroo said, sitting up a bit. His ribs screamed at him, but he was careful to keep it from showing on his face, instead opting to press his hand against them carefully. “But, yes. That is why I have so many.”

“Who did you kill to get them?” Suga asked. Straight and to the point. They wanted to see if he was a danger to them, he imagined.

“Believe it or not, they’re mine. They were given to me by the government.”

“There is no government anymore,” Suga cut him off.

Daichi’s eyes never left him, and though the thinner man’s stare was more malicious, Daichi’s made him far more uncomfortable.

“Correct, in the functional sense anyways. It can’t really do anything for humanity anymore.”

“So they’re leaving us to die?” Suga jolted forward with the explosive anger of his question, teeth bared like a primal animal. Daichi caught him gently, trying to calm him.

“I think we’re straying from the topic, here, Suga.” Daichi said. “Let’s hear him out.” Ah. He finally had a name to the second man’s face. “Why would the ‘government’ give them to you?”

He debated giving them a sarcastic answer, just to see how far he could push them, but something was telling him he should cooperate. He didn’t really know how to say it without sounding cliché or untrustworthy, however. How in the world could he explain to these strangers that he was trying to save them? He could hardly believe it himself sometimes. He sighed.

“Ok, fine. I’ll tell you. But will you let me ask some questions, too?”

“It depends on your answer,” Daichi said. Kuroo frowned. He shouldn’t be surprised since he, in no way, held the upper-hand here, but he was hoping for more of a clue to see if divulging this information was safe…

“I’m…” he mulled over the words in his head, still trying to figure out the best way to put it. He sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. He slumped back, resting his back against the wall in defeat. Sometimes it was best to put it simply. “Technically, yes, I work for the government, if you can call it that. I’m a scientist and I’ve been sent to find a place where plants can grow again.”

The two tensed, immediately looking at each other in blatant alarm. For a long moment, they did not break eye-contact.

“And what if we don’t believe you?” Suga asked, slowly turning his attention back to Kuroo.

“Well, I don’t really know what I could say to make you believe me. If you’ve been through my pack, I think it’s an obvious explanation.” He was tired. Really, really tired. The pain was starting to get to him, and today’s events were settling into his tissues like sandbags were placed all over his body. He was staring down the bridge of his nose at them with half-lidded, exhausted eyes, head completely resting against the wall. He wasn’t even sure he could pull himself up anymore.

“Ok,” Daichi said after a moment. “Let’s say you _are_ telling the truth. Why would you come here, of all places?”

Kuroo, with much effort, raised a hand to his face to rub it in exasperation. He was getting a little cranky. He was irritated that this whole thing was taking so long, and frustrated that he didn’t know what to say to help the situation.

“One of our scientists sent us this location. He _died_ getting this information to us. He wouldn’t have risked his life just to send us on a wild goose chase.”

“A wild what?”

“Goose chase,” he couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s just a term that stems from an animal that used to exist. I just mean he wouldn’t send us somewhere without concrete evidence.”

“Ah,” Suga said thoughtfully. Daichi pulled his arm to turn their backs to Kuroo and began muttering a conversation quietly. The whispers were undecipherable, but he hoped the discourse was going well and in his favor. His eyes were warm and weighty, his breathing slowing considerably. He didn’t want to be so sleepy but being in such clean air felt incredibly comfortable and it was like his whole body was getting a reboot.

Daichi turned to look over his shoulder and did a double take, peering at the lethargic man sagging against the wall. He felt a bit of pity for him in that moment. He nudged Suga and whispered a few more words, then turned to address their captive.

“We’re not sure we believe you… but we’ll bring you a blanket and water, so you can rest for a bit.”

He pushed some of his messy hair out of his eyes, blinking quickly to try to keep sleep at bay. “Thank you for your kind gesture.” Even Kuroo couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic anymore. He thought he could see a little giggle from the silver-haired man, but he couldn’t be sure.

The two left him once again, shutting the door with a hard clack.

“You broke his ribs?” Suga crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight onto one foot, but amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice! He shot Ennoshita.”

Suga sighed a little, an internal fight struggling within him. “Do you think it’s a good idea to leave him like that?”

“Well, we didn’t really have a chance to ask him about the pills in his bag. Maybe this is a good opportunity to fish for information?” Daichi paused. “Do you think what he said is true?” The atmosphere between them sank to a more serious nature. This whole situation was rather overwhelming and even improbable.

“Daichi…” Suga started, staring at nothing in particular on the ground, deep in thought. “If he’s telling the truth… if he succeeds… the whole world can begin to heal.”

Daichi clenched his teeth, setting his jaw repeatedly out of habit as everything tumbled through his head.

“Do you really think he can? It’s a huge risk. If we let him out and he turns out to be a fraud…” The rest was insinuated, but Suga knew the implications. The dangers would be unprecedented and the damage that could be done to their home was unimaginable. It may not be something they could recover from.

“We won’t let that happen,” Suga insisted. “We have resources: most of our group can fight and he’s severely outnumbered.” Daichi chewed his lip, weighing the options.

“I don’t know… Suga, you didn’t see the combat I saw. He’s strategic, well trained, moves like water… What if he sneaks out when no one is paying attention, or worse, takes someone hostage?”

Suga uncrossed his arms, his face changing to one akin to being proud of something. “What if,” he asked, clearly pleased with whatever was coming next: “we do a trial release? Let’s see what he’s willing to do for us. If he’s hesitant to help, that may be a sign that he’s lying. Someone is with him all the time, guarding him, and if he’s a scientist like he claims he is, he should be able to help us.”

The taller man blinked at him thoughtfully. It wasn’t a bad idea. The look in his eyes told Suga everything he needed to know. He smirked with resolution.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The door was pulled open and, once again, Kuroo’s poor retinas stung and he reached up to shield his eyes. He felt like he was _just_ on the precipice of sleep, too…

The one with the dark, short cropped hair was the one to deliver the blanket and water bag, pushing it through the bars of the cell. Kuroo rolled slightly, trying his best to stand without causing much distress to his ribs, but a pained hiss still managed to escape from his lips. He dragged his feet a bit, plodding the few steps it took to reach the blanket and bending slowly, carefully, to pick up the items.

“You seem like you’re in a lot of pain,” Daichi said, amusement coloring his tone.

“Naw, I just like to clasp my side and make noises for shits and giggles.” Oops. Filter was off when he was sleepy, wasn’t it?

“We saw some aspirin in your bag. Would you like us to bring you some?”

Kuroo stood straight now, rolling his shoulders a little with a laugh. “How kind of you to offer me my own supplies,” he gave him a crooked smirk. “But that’s not aspirin.” He hesitated. He was about to divulge a very dangerous piece of information that could save him or screw him... which would it be?

"It's for Rust Sickness."

The two men went incredibly still. Their eyes were impossibly wide, and the air was frozen and heavy between them.

“What?” He’d heard him loud and clear, but the word still popped out of Daichi’s throat before he could stop it.

He didn’t have to answer.

Suga stepped back. "Are you sick?" His eyes unconsciously searched all the bare pieces of Kuroo’s skin, looking for any rash or blemish.

"No,” he said gently. “I made it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Thank you for reading Chapter 2!!! It’s been a hell of a journey getting here. Whhaaaatttt Kuroo can make medicine for Rust Sickness? Stakes are getting higher! How will the Karasuno boys take this? It’s quite a game changer. Please let me know if you enjoyed the fic!
> 
> P.S. I had to trim it down a bit and move some to the next chapter because it was 20 pages long. I feel like it made the flow better anyways.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo must assess those afflicted with Rust Sickness in the underground base. Will he be able to integrate himself with these people, or would this be a lost cause?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to laomin! She has given me a lot of confidence to move forward with my writing, not just this chapter, but as a whole. Thank you <3

The whole world seemed to slow before him, but his thoughts were running a mile a minute. Could this really be true? The medication in his pack was the cure for Rust Sickness? Was it actually possible? This could completely change everything for them. But why would this man share it with them when they had attacked him, broken his ribs, taken his things, and thrown him in a dirty cell? Because they had no knowledge of how to administer the drugs in terms of dosage or side effects, they couldn’t just take it and run, no matter how desperate they were. Well, not that he would allow anyone in their community to just take things like that.

There was a structure here. Everyone worked equally, everyone helped in the ways they were best suited to, and they all trusted each other with their lives. They had survived this long _because_ of the structured lives they lived and the symbiotic relationship they all shared with one another. With that also came a cooperation and trust in their leader, Daichi. They believed in him, had confidence that he would make the right decisions with their well-being as top priority.

This changed everything.

It was very quiet in the holding cell, as no one moved to speak. It was quite a large piece of information to digest, and neither Suga nor Daichi were prepared to hear something like that and the weight of its implications. Suga slowly looked at Daichi, searching in his eyes some way to progress, seeking his guidance. Daichi couldn’t meet his eyes, however. Internally, he was struggling with a way to iron out this situation. What could he even do to ask for this man’s help after the way they’d treated him?

Kuroo leaned forward slowly, as not to alarm them, gripping one of the bars that separated him from the two men just beyond. The atmosphere between them was heavy and serious. He knew that at least one of their members was sick, and he knew that it was getting bad. He had helped many, many people along his journey. His pack had been full to the brim with medication for Rust Sickness, not only for himself should he contract it, but because he’d wanted to help as many people as possible.

He’d spent almost all of his free time at the lab making more antibiotics.

“You can’t save everyone, Kuroo,” Akaashi had said to him. He did not say it out of malice, and Kuroo knew this, but it still hurt. It hurt so much. It started as tightness in his chest, making him feel stiff and cold, and his fingers began to tingle slowly with lack of oxygen. It was only then he’d realized his breathing was irregular. He squeezed his eyes shut. He slammed his fists on the table and sagged forward, hunched over the metal counter with tears welling up in his eyes, teeth grit against the aching in his chest. Akaashi came to put a hand on his back, a small effort to comfort him. “You’re killing yourself. You haven’t slept.”

It was true. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours each night for at least two weeks. Once he had figured out how to speed the process for making antibiotics, all he wanted to do was produce as many as possible before he was sent out on his mission.

“I don’t care. It’s for them... I don’t deserve to be here while they suffer.”

“It’s not about deserving it more than anyone else. It’s about taking this and making it into something greater.”

The anguish he felt was not uncommon in them. Most of the staff at the lab had broken down at some point or another, had been so frustrated they cried, or stormed off to disappear while they cooled their heads.

Akaashi was right, of course.

In some ways, he’d been burdened so heavily with the weight of human lives, he’d found himself close to breaking under the pressure. It wasn’t as if this weight was his alone to bear, but he knew he’d eventually be on his own and it would certainly feel like it then.

“Please take a break… It will still be here when you get back.”

Against his desires, he obliged. There was something about Akaashi that was hard to refuse. Though he seemed calm and docile, there was a fire in his eyes that threatened anyone who might try to defy him. It was never overt, and he’d never experienced the wrath, himself, but there was a certain promise there that was undeniable.

Kuroo pulled himself from his memories to concentrate on the task at hand. He had to approach this carefully. He wanted to help them, but would they let him?  Would they trust him to care for the people who had become their family?

“Please, let me treat your friends…” Kuroo said.

Suga looked lost. He knew exactly what Daichi was struggling with, but he was impatient. The longer they mulled over this, the worse their companions were faring. Daichi took a deep breath, just the slightest quiver in it signaling a desperate attempt to stay calm.

“Why would you help us?”

The man behind the bars almost looked offended, sad. It gave Daichi the strangest sensation in his stomach, a hope that his gut feeling about this could be right.

“Daichi,” he said. His name sounded so strange coming off a stranger’s tongue. It was calm, gentle, and it soothed him strangely, carried a tone that made him believe that whatever was coming was going to be the truth. “There is no reason not to help someone in need.”

Suga stared, Daichi’s breath hitched.

“…Alright. We’ll let you out.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

They were true to their word. First thing the next morning, he was set free. They brought him fresh clothes, his own actually, washed and dried and he had been dumbfounded. They’d pulled them from his pack and cleaned them, gave him a bucket of hot water in the morning to scrub down, a chair, his grooming supplies from his pack, and even a towel. It was amazing. The fresh, heated water on his skin was reminiscent of the showers he’d taken back at the lab, and he couldn’t have been more grateful. Scrubbing the muck off of him was like transforming into a new human being, and washing his hair… oh, washing his hair was the most invigorating, refreshing thing he could remember experiencing. It was an exaggerated and over dramatic thought, but it truly felt that way in this moment.

When he looked back at the water in the bucket, it was murky with red and brown, like mud, completely opaque, and the more he thought about how that came off of him, the more disgusted he got. He couldn’t even imagine how he had looked when they’d brought him in.

He toweled himself dry, pulling his clean clothes on, but not without giving them a deep smell first. It was probably strange, but having clean clothes was an extravagance in this day and age, and he rarely found a well protected water source to scrub them clean.

His pants were a nice light tan now, unlike the brownish red they’d become on his travels, and slightly baggy for a breathable comfort and littered with cargo pockets. His black compression shirt clung to him like a second skin, tucked beneath the hem of his pants and came down to a quarter-sleeve that contoured his biceps for easy mobility. The fabric was textured with a tiny, hexagonal pattern, specially designed for moisture absorbance and enhanced with anti-microbial properties.

He finished his grooming, complete with his deodorizing powder, and even running a comb through his increasingly fluffy hair. It had been so weighted down by dirt, it was springing up in ways he’d forgotten it could, and he cursed his perpetual bed head under his breath.

He began to stretch, jumped in place, and did some push-ups, warming up his body. It was sore from his excursions yesterday, and his ribs flared with pain when he’d pushed up from the ground, reminding him just how fucked he was. He shifted most of his weight to his uninjured side, keeping his wince at bay just enough to complete his second set. He sprung up and carefully worked his shoulder and biceps on his injured side, making sure they were not stiff as to avoid further injury. He’d probably have to do something about it later, but there wasn’t much someone could do for broken ribs.

There was a knock at the holding cell door, and he thought it was rather nice that they were courteous enough to give him time to cover up if he was still naked. He smirked at the thought.

Daichi entered alone and stopped briefly mid step. He could swear he was looking at a completely different person now.

Where dirt and grime had swathed jaw and cheek bones before now stood clean, healthy, smooth-looking skin. The circles from his goggles were gone, revealing light—almost golden—hazel eyes, one of which was mostly covered by… incredibly fluffy black hair. It was quite messy, and yet seemed to be perfectly in place all at the same time. His outfit, now clean, looked quite nice hanging off him in the way it was meant to. Without the gigantic jacket and pack, high tech mask and goggles, he looked more like a normal person. He was tall and extremely filled out with lean muscle. He looked like he could snap a neck with the flick of a wrist. Even his boots had been cleaned, he noticed, the slick design looking far more intimidating when they completed his outfit like this.

Everything was neatly stacked and folded behind him, meticulously placed in corners based on their intended purpose. He was incredibly organized, no doubt stemming from the militia background… or maybe it was the scientific background? There were a whole slew of questions he had about this guy.

“You clean up well,” he mused aloud, trying to break the ice of conversation. “You look… different.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the horizontal bars, hands sticking through to complete his statement with a noncommittal gesture.

Daichi couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “You certainly don’t look like a doctor.”

Kuroo raised a brow. “Oh? And when was the last time you saw a doctor?” Not that he considered himself a doctor, either.

Daichi had no response for that, really. Medical knowledge had been passed down in generations throughout different families, but now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if he had ever truly met a doctor at all.

“Are you ready to see your patients?”

“Patients? Plural?” Kuroo said. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but he was hoping he had enough medicine with him for all that were infected. He could, and would, make more, but it would take a little time. “Well, I’ll need my supplies from my pack.”

“Of course,” Daichi said, pulling the keys from his pocket and approaching the cell. Respectfully, Kuroo withdrew, standing a few feet from him until the doors opened. He escorted him to the door that led to the corridors outside, pulling it open and again, Kuroo’s poor eyes hurt with the onslaught of bright light. He blinked against it as they adjusted, and he was met with Tanaka waiting for them. Tanaka took up the rear, following them quietly with another intimidating, angry face. The more he saw it, the less he felt it was indicative of a real threat.

He was surprised to only cross a small room to stop at another door. Daichi pulled it open and stepped inside, gesturing for Kuroo to stay. And rightly so. He couldn’t see everything inside, but from what he did, he could discern that it was chock full of valuable survival goods.

 “Wow, this is incredible,” Kuroo said in awe.

“I hope you understand our measures of precaution,” Daichi said from inside the room. He was referring to the ‘guard’ at his side, Tanaka, and not allowing Kuroo to enter. Understandably, they were keeping him under close watch, no doubt until he could prove his worth.

“I do. I recommend it, actually.”

Tanaka looked at him, narrowing his eyes.

“I mean, not necessarily me. I meant, just in general.” He wanted to sigh and smack himself in the face for making such a vague statement that accidentally implicated himself as a criminal. Dig that hole a little deeper, Kuroo. He cleared his throat. “Hopefully everything is mostly where it belongs, or else this is about to be a tedious process,” he said, making a small jab at the fact that they’d poked around in his belongings. “In the inside pocket where I kept the medicine, there should be a stethoscope, a small flashlight, and a small kit with surgical tools.”

Tanaka gave him an alarmed look.

“Are you sure we should be giving him little knives, Daichi?” He looked Kuroo up and down to articulate his point.

“It’s fine, Tanaka. That’s why we have you,” he said, poking his head around the door and grinning confidently. Tanaka puffed his chest up and stuck his jaw out, as if that statement did nothing but light the fire of bravery in his soul. Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. They were really close, weren’t they? He was a bit envious, actually, seeing has he hadn’t felt much kinship since leaving the capitol. His parents had died relatively early in his life, in his early twenties, and his friends at the capitol were really all he had left.

He missed Bokuto’s stupid grin and loud voice. He missed Akaashi’s warmth and understanding.

“There’s also a box of masks next to the examination kit. And some bandages. And some antibiotic ointment in a tube.”

Maybe Daichi should have just brought the pack out to him… There were a few words he didn’t understand in his statements. Stethoscope? It had to be this weird, floppy thing with a cylindrical apparatus at one end and tubing that branched out to two buds on the other.

“This?” He called, sticking the object out the door.

“Yep. That’s the stethoscope. Did you find the kit?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He emerged from the room, an arm full of items and Kuroo did a quick check to make sure everything was there, including the bag of medicine.”

“Looks good. Do you have soap and water?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Let’s get this party started.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kuroo’s aura immediately changed once he got into medical mode. He became rather quiet on the way over, and he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. If he could help these people, he could earn trust amongst the group, but if he couldn’t… well, he imagined the relationship would sour greatly. It was very fragile as it was: guards on his flank, eyes watching his every move. The next few hours would be imperative.

When the door opened to a large room with beds, revealing three individuals, Kuroo had to resist the urge to immediately run to them and start the examination. He set about with soap and water to the counter space, placing the items from his pack in a strategic order. He turned on more lights, pulled shades from some to brighten the room even more. He pulled the stethoscope around his neck, grabbed the flashlight, and pulled a mask from the box, hooking one string around his ear, then the other, but pulling the mask under his chin.

He washed his instruments and hands thoroughly, and then he was ready. He looked at Daichi and gave him a nod.

The deep, painful-sounding cough filled the room. Tanaka stepped back and he noticed then that Suga had joined them, crossing his arms and keeping his distance as well.

“It’s ok. It’s not contagious.”

They stared at him in blatant astonishment.

“What?” Daichi asked, staring at him. “Then why are you using a mask?”

“It’s for them, not me. Rust Sickness attacks the immune system,” he said, though his eyes were fixed on the patients in front of him. He actually missed the exchange of looks and gaping mouths, and he might have laughed if he’d gotten to see them looking so dumbfounded.

Now was not the time, however. He was already moving to the three on their beds. One was sitting up, leaning against the wall. He looked rather pale and sickly, but he imagined he was quite a fighter before. Though he was probably losing definition, he was still strong with defined muscles and a shaved, rounded Mohawk that was starting to grow out. The one in the center was a frail looking boy with freckles speckled over his nose, but looked to be the healthiest of them all, and the last—the one with the frightening cough, was a small girl with beautiful blonde hair.

She was timid and, when he moved to her first, she cowered under her blankets and made a small noise in fright.

“Hey,” Kuroo said softly. “I’m here to help you, I promise.” The young girl pulled the blanket down just enough to show her eyes, and then finally let it fall to show the rest of her face. The red and orange rash was on her jaw-line and disappeared down her neck beneath her clothes, meaning it was probably covering her chest or sides, possibly her legs. He swallowed hard again, his throat tightening with empathetic sorrow as he smiled at her again. “Do you mind sitting up? I’d like to see how it’s progressed and start you on a treatment.” She looked at him with wide eyes that began to water. It struck him right in the chest, and he wanted to hug her so badly it hurt. Some tears fell from her eyes. He didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if she had hope he could cure her.

He pulled the mask up over his nose and mouth, closing the distance between them now and getting to his knees in front of her.

“What’s your name?” He asked, trying to distract her a little.

“Yachi,” she said with a weak smile.

“Yachi. It’s great to meet you. My name is Kuroo.”

Daichi flinched. He hadn’t even known the man’s name. Here he was, practically demanding that he help them, and he hadn’t even taken the time to ask his name. He winced at himself as a wave of guilt washed over him. He wanted to smack himself. He’d never been more frazzled than he had in the last twenty four hours, but had he really forgotten his manners so much? He was mortified.

“First, I’m going to take your pulse,” he said, reaching down to position her wrist and then held his fingers to them. He pulled his wrist up and watched the seconds tick. He nodded and let her wrist go, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled a bit.

“I’m going to have to touch you, ok? I promise it won’t be painful, but it might be a little uncomfortable,” he said, looking her in the eyes, seeking consent. She nodded. “Alright.” He pulled the stethoscope up to his ears, leaning to position the diaphragm onto her back. “Take a really big, slow breath for me?” She did as he instructed, but coughed mid-way through. The sound made him want to cringe, but he fought it, moving the tool along her back to listen to her lungs. “It’s ok. Keep trying.” He moved to the front now, and she blushed deeply when he had to venture down into her shirt a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything weird, ok?” She nodded.

“I-it’s ok. I trust you,” she said, though her voice was tiny and weak.

“I appreciate that very much,” he replied, pulling the stethoscope back completely and pulling them from his ears to hang around his neck again.

Daichi was watching with an incredulous gaze, his body tense as he waited motionless. He was chewing the inside of his lip nervously, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Kuroo. His compassion truly showed through his craft and it honestly felt like he was looking at a completely different person than the perceived mercenary they’d met just yesterday. The kindness and softness in his eyes when he was speaking to Yachi was, for lack of a better word, captivating. That he had gained her trust, that she looked so comfortable with him, was no easy feat. Was it an act? He stole a glance at his other comrades; they looked just as enthralled as he was. Everyone was on edge. Yachi was their sickest member and, just a week prior, they had had a very serious conversation about how they would probably lose her.

Tora and Yamaguchi watched carefully as well, looking both drained and hopeful simultaneously. The hope was not even for themselves, he knew. Tora was very protective of Yachi. She was the most nervous and scared amongst their group, but she was a beacon of love and everyone was extremely fond of her. When she had fallen sick, it had crushed them all. She tried to remain strong for everyone and keep a smile on her face, but as she grew sicker and sicker, it was harder for her to keep the smile on. She was exhausted, could hardly get out of bed at times.

“You’re doing great,” Kuroo said, pulling the flashlight from his pocket. “I’m going to flash this into your eyes, so look at my finger here,” he said, raising a finger in front of her face. He flashed the light and peered at her pupils, checking for reactive dilation. “And here,” he said, switching to the other side. “Great. Looks good,” he said. “I need to look at your skin, now.” She stiffened a little, looking more frightened than she had before.

“It… It’s really bad,” she said, voice quivering.

“Hey now,” he chuckled. “I thought I was the doctor, here. I bet it’s not as bad as you think.” He was making this judgment based on the patches he’d seen on her arms, neck, and chest, but he was pretty confident in his assumption. She lifted her shirt a bit to expose her stomach, where she implied it was the worst. He used the flashlight and reached forward, looking at her to warn her that he was going to touch her. She nodded and he pressed gently on the rash. It was pliant and only had small parts that were stiffening and crusting. He could not smell any blatant necrosis, nor could see any leakage of fluids, though it looked as if it was only a matter of days until it would progress to that. Once it began, it would be difficult to stop. He pressed a few more times, and Yachi winced a little, but the worst of it was over.

“See? Not that bad.”

“Really?” She asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Really.” He pulled back and went to sink to wash his hands again, then pulled the stethoscope and mask from his face, setting them on the counter.

 “How long since the first symptoms?”

“About five months?” Suga volunteered. Kuroo gawked at him.

“ _Five months?_ ” He lowered his voice to a hiss, looking between them. They blinked back at him. “And the others?”

“Two months for Tora, and about one month for Yamaguchi,” Daichi answered, crossing his arms. “Why?”

“Well for starters,” he said, pulling them farther away from the patients, “Yachi should be on death’s door if she has been sick for five months!”

“She… she’s not?”

“No. It’s bad, but she should be fine if we start the treatment immediately.” The relief that flooded the room was like a turbulent storm finally dissipating. Everyone’s bodies visibly relaxed. Suga physically sagged against the wall by the door, Tanaka’s face scrunched up as his eyes turned misty, and Daichi let his arms fall to his sides and shoulders drop.

“I’m… I’m really grateful. Thank you…” He sounded ashamed through his appreciative words, and he could tell that it took a lot to get them out. He just gave him a light hearted smirk in return. He was relieved, too, but he wouldn’t tell them that just yet.

“The others should be fine, but I will also examine them as well, but this slow progression is… perplexing. I might need to run some tests...”

“Alright. It won’t hurt them, right?” Suga asked, pushing off the wall to come and stand with them.

“I don’t need to run tests on them,” he admitted, putting a hand on his hip. “I need to run tests on the environment.”

There was a long, quiet pause. No one offered any indication as to why.

“When you said it wasn’t contagious,” Daichi interjected. “How can that be possible? How does Rust Sickness work if it doesn’t spread from person to person?”

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck a bit, sighing. “That would require a lot of explanation.”

“Well, I’d like to know. Taking preventative measures to ensure everyone’s safety is a top priority.” Daichi stood his ground, looking determined and fierce. He smiled a bit, admiring the tenacity in him.

“Alright. You asked for it.” Kuroo set to cleaning his instruments with soap and water. “All humans technically have the RS bacteria in their systems. They’re anaerobic organisms, which basically means that oxygen inhibits their growth. Anaerobes are actually part of the normal flora within the skin, mouth, gastrointestinal tract, etc. The problem comes from the disruption of the balance in your body, wherein the RS bacteria explodes due to the weakened immune system that is caused by the inhalation of toxic particles from outside.” He gently placed his instruments back into their respective spots, pushing aside the unused surgical kit. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that, if it had been bad enough, lacerations to drain toxic fluids and dead tissue would have been needed. “Because this particular bacteria cannot live outside the body, _technically_ it is not contagious, unless an open wound were to be exposed to, say, another open wound that is currently infected. The infection rate via exposure is extremely low. Are you following?”

He received a few nods.

“Good. The body needs to get rid of the toxins and contaminated particles, which is actually very easy when in an oxygenated environment and the body has access to proper nutrients. This is why Rust Sickness was not a well-know disease until after contamination was beyond repair: The body was fully able to balance itself and naturally expel toxins and the like. However, once the balance is upset for a long period of time, the anaerobic bacteria can produce faster than the body can keep up, and that is when we see the physical symptoms of Rust Sickness. Early onset Rust Sickness can be fought naturally by the body, as stated, but the farther it progresses, the harder it is to get rid of. That’s where the antibiotics come in.

“The anaerobes that cause RS are _mostly_ located in the mucosal membranes of the skin and lungs and that is why it starts subcutaneously and manifests its symptoms with red and orange colored rashes, and then leads to the respiratory infection which causes coughing.” He pulled the bag of pills open, started counting them, and put them in piles.

“Which leads me to the next point: Rust Sickness usually progresses within two to three months and kills its host. The fact that Yachi is alive at five months and only just progressing into the later stages is unheard of.” He turned abruptly to face them. “This is why I need to test your environment. This lack of development should only be possible with…” He stopped, sighing and rubbing his temples. “Never mind. That’s impossible,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Anyways,” he continued, louder. “Yachi will need to take three a day: One when she wakes up, one in the afternoon, and one at night. She will take two tonight before she sleeps. Try to administer them with some sort of food.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, debating on whether he should tell them the next piece of information…

“I estimate that it will take about three weeks for her recovery.” He paused, rubbed the back of his neck again: a nervous tick of his. “It will most likely only take about a week for the other two at about one or two a day, pending diagnoses.”

“Then why do you look so worried?” Daichi asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m going to have enough to treat all three completely. Yachi is quite bad.” He’d given up so many antibiotics on the road here, and with nowhere to safely make more, he hadn’t been able to restock.

“But you said you could save her,” Tanaka said. His tone was protective, anxious, and angry. He couldn’t blame him.

“Yes, I am confident in that. However, her case is severe and will require aggressive treatment, which leaves less for the others. I _should_ have enough, but I probably won’t have any left after all treatments are complete.”

“You said you can make it,” Suga pointed out. This information came as quite a shock to Tanaka, who hadn’t been present for the conversation, and now looked much more hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“It takes _time,_ Suga _._ ” It was the first time he’d lost his temper with them—though brief—and was a jolting juxtaposition of the tender man moments before. He had no right to use their names, but he was feeling that pressure again… the pressure to save everyone and possibly not being able to do so. “I can do it,” he said, calming himself, and sighed into his hands as they came up to rub his face. “I can do it. I just need time.”

Daichi looked at Suga, asking him to back off. They had asked so much of him already, and now they were asking him for the rest of his medicine, to entrust it to strangers and have none left for himself or anyone else.

“Alright,” Daichi said. “How can we help?” Kuroo looked up at him, searching his eyes for truth.

“Well,” he started, carefully. “That means I’ll have to stay for a while.” He could see the discomfort on both Suga and Tanaka’s face, but Daichi looked unfazed. He licked his lips, pressing on. “This is the cleanest and most stable shelter I’ve been to since I left the lab. It would provide the best environment for the least amount of disruption.”

They didn’t really seem to understand what he was talking about, specifically, but they did get the gist of why he needed to be there.

Daichi and Suga exchanged glances, using that non-vocal communication that Kuroo was starting to get a bit annoyed with. He had a difficult time reading it and it made him feel uneasy.

“Welcome aboard, Kuroo.” Daichi flashed him a toothy grin and Kuroo was taken aback.

“Oh.” He blinked a bit. “Thanks.” He was a bit dazed, not having expected an answer so quickly. He’d made the right choice, then, helping these people. Relief cooled his head a bit, but it only gave clarity to another issue: What about his mission?

He had been sent to this location to find plant life. This setback would delay him quite a bit and he was feeling rather overwhelmed. If he stayed too long with these people, he would have a hard time leaving. The desire for human interaction was heavily covered in the psychological aspects of his training. It was, possibly, the most dangerous part of his mission in that humans were naturally drawn to each other and the need for companionship was a strong pull in the decision for sacrifice.

He had to avoid getting too attached to these people.

Avoidance, of course, was mostly mental. Being able to keep himself from developing a deep emotional relationship with the others would be… challenging. It had always been his weak spot when they’d done evaluations, and for good reason. His empathy towards others was seen was a danger to both himself and the mission. At the same time, it was also his greatest motivator.

It was unfortunate that these people seemed so genuine.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was an easy decision to make: Kuroo would be guarded at all times until they felt more confident in his nature. Though he had offered to help them in return for using their shelter, he was still an outsider, and they were vulnerable. They decided on shifts and would give Kuroo his own room, but there was to be a guard at his door at night. Kuroo had agreed without hesitation, but only asked that they respect his work station once it was set up and that no one was to touch anything once the process was in motion.

Until then, Daichi thought it would be best to show Kuroo around. They both had so many questions to ask one another, but he felt the scientist deserved a bit more at the moment, seeing as he had started his family on the path to recovery.

“You said you had some questions. I think it’s only fair I answer some of them, don’t you think?”

Kuroo spared him a glance, but he was mostly content looking around his surroundings, for now.

“I suppose I do,” he said. “I’m fascinated by what you’ve done with this place.” They were in the opposite branch of the shelter, farthest from the holding cell where the bedrooms resided. He showed him to the one all the way in the back, which would be his. It was semi-secluded and smaller than the rest of the rooms, Daichi had said, but he supposed it was fitting for a temporary addition to the group. “Is this my humble abode?”

“It will be,” Daichi said, looking into the room with him. Kuroo stepped into the barren area, looking at the walls and corners, as if they were interesting. It was lit by a single light hanging from the ceiling and the walls were concrete and cold. There was a carpet on the floor, almost filling the entire room, and though it looked well-worn, it also felt quite pliant under his feet. Impressive. It probably wouldn’t be too shabby to sleep on if he could put his sleeping gear on it. “We weren’t really planning on a guest. It’s not quite outfitted to be a real room right now, but we have supplies we’ll be bringing in for you.”

“How generous.” He meant it.

“You’ll have a cot and a place to put your things.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Kuroo said, turning slowly to look at him. “I’m used to sleeping on the ground and fending for myself.”

“I bet you are. It’s a shame you have to live in such comfort, now.”

His playful tone made him smirk with amusement. The notion of this being comfort was probably laughable to Daichi, but Kuroo truly looked upon this deeming it just that. It _was_ comfortable, and it _was_ lavishness to him, and he certainly could not afford to get used to it.

“Thank you.”

The simple words seemed to throw Daichi off, his face betraying his surprise. He quickly changed the subject.

“Alright. You have questions, I have answers. Shall we?” They plodded their way back towards the common room. “Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” Kuroo snickered, shooting him a devious look.

“Within reason, please.”

“Define ‘reason.’”

“Kuroo…” He warned, meeting his deviousness with a hard stare, but there was still a little mischief behind it. It was surprising how easy it was to talk with him, to joke with him, and to walk with him like this as if they were friends. It was… troublesome.

“I see you’ve learned my name properly.”

The statement was meant to be light hearted banter, but the quip stuck him like a needle, and guilt spread from the wound like a plague. He stopped just before the common room, reaching up to rub the side of his face sheepishly.

“I’m sorry about that. These last twenty four hours have been… strange.”

“Yeah, they have.” He replied. Kuroo leaned against the wall of the narrow corridor, looking out towards the common room where the bright lights were welcoming and warm. “This place…” He started, then paused as he ran through all the questions he had in his mind, deciding which to ask first. “Did all of you build this place?”

Daichi followed his lead and leaned back on the opposite wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “No. Well, not technically.” Kuroo fixed him with a bit of side eye expectantly. “Most of this was already here, but we’ve been adding to it. It looked like it was an old mining shaft at one point or another, perhaps repurposed for the military based on all the metal, but we’re not really sure. The hydraulics that open the entrance are not really something normal people could get a hold of, I imagine. But we wouldn’t be able to survive here without our engineer. He is really the one that keeps everything going.”

“Engineer?”

“Ah, that’s what we call him, but he’s more like an inventor or tinkerer.” This piqued Kuroo’s interest and he turned to give Daichi his full attention. “He always needs to be doing something, I guess. His face lights up when he gets an idea or has to figure out a way to fix something. It’s like a game to him. Otherwise, he’s pretty quiet. He’s incredibly smart.”

“I’m guessing that’s how you have such a clean air filtration system? I can’t remember smelling air this clean.”

Daichi paused a little, pursing his lips before continuing. “Yeah, you could say that. He also fixed some solar panels we had and that’s ultimately why we have electricity enough to keep this place going.”

“Hm, I figured it was something like that.” Kuroo scratched his cheek a bit, satiating an itch. He felt so at-ease with Daichi, like he was already accepted as part of the community. This was the first time he’d really stopped to look at him like this. He wasn’t focused on survival or patients or distracted by his need to absorb all of his surroundings at the moment. He was solid muscle in a long sleeved, grey cotton shirt with functional brown pants and athletic shoes. His short, cropped black hair was also practical, but seemed to suit him perfectly. He looked rather intimidating, actually, like he had above ground. He looked confident in his skin, like he could take on anything. He was beginning to realize why the group had chosen him as their leader.

“You also must have a way to reclaim and filter water as well?” Kuroo asked.

“Yes, but we have a well in addition to that.”

“That’s incredible… It’s extremely difficult to find uncontaminated water that is naturally occurring.”

“We are very fortunate.”

Kuroo gave Daichi a lazy smirk. “What are the odds I can meet this tinkerer of yours?”

“Kenma? I don’t see why not. He’d probably teach you a thing or two.”

Kuroo’s brow shot up. He was so quick-witted that it kept catching him off guard. He’d been away from people for too long.

“I’d like that,” he grinned.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time they finished the tour, Kuroo had the base mapped out. There were still a few doors he was not allowed to go behind, but Daichi had told him that they would show him eventually. He was extremely curious now but, out of respect, he would wait until he could earn the right to go behind those doors.

“Tanaka and Ukai will be, uh, escorting you for the rest of the day and helping you get settled in your room,” Daichi said, a bit awkwardly. “We will have to keep your pack for now, but you’ll have all your clothes and sleeping gear and grooming supplies in your room.”

“Thanks,” Kuroo returned, running a hand through his wild hair, trying to tame it. “Where will you be?”

“Why do you ask?”

Kuroo hesitated. “I guess I just feel a little out of place.”

It was endearing, really, seeing this awkward side of Kuroo. It was quite unexpected and seemed quite genuine. It was hard to believe the man before him was the man from the surface who could have killed them any time he wanted. The more he spoke with him, the less fearful he felt they had to be of him. He wanted very much to believe that. However, one could never judge a book by its cover. He was still unsure on which Kuroo was the real Kuroo. People never did anything for free, so what was this man’s ulterior motive?

“I’ve been up all night. I’m actually going to catch some sleep while I can. I usually have night shifts.”

“Night shifts?”

“Yes, we take turns watching over the shelter and keeping an eye on the surface.”

“Ah, that’s good. I’m glad. You have a nice little situation here. It’d be a shame if something were to happen to it.”

Though he was sure he meant it kindly, the statement made Daichi wary. With his guard up, he was reading into every little breath that Kuroo was taking, and with having to look over his shoulder at every turn, it was hard not to be put-off by something so ominous.

Tanaka and Ukai joined them, breaking the energy between them before Daichi could over-analyze any further. He handed him off with grace and, true to his word, he sought the corridors to his room to be alone.

Once the door shut behind him, the day’s events began to hit him. There was a long stretch of silence, only the sound of breathing in the room with him. His breath hitched, he tried to hold it back, but the tears began to prick his eyes.

They’d be okay.

Yachi, Tora, and Yamaguchi would be okay. They didn’t have to say goodbye to anyone, anymore.

Of all the insane things that had happened in the last twenty four hours, this was the one that tipped him over the edge. He felt his eyes sting as he attempted to blink back the tears. He sagged against the door heavily, sliding down slowly as he tried to steady his breathing. It was so tiring having to be the strong one, the one that carried the well-being of everyone, the one that had to make the hard decisions.

He hiccuped slightly, looking up at the concrete ceiling, and tears slid down his face, his jaw, and finally down his neck. He wiped at them aggressively with his sleeve, stomach quaking with the urgency to keep quiet even though the sobs wanted to break free. He lifted his hands to dig his palms into his sockets, trying to banish the anguish with sheer willpower.

What kind of leader was he if he couldn’t even take care of his own? How could they follow him or trust him when he had to bring a stranger in to save them?

His judgment was biased and inherently flawed, wasn’t it? How could he be entrusted with the lives of so many? And their numbers kept growing… How would he be able to feed them and clothe them all? They had to reach farther and farther out for food and there was less and less when they scavenged. Even if this man, Kuroo, would share his supplies, it couldn’t last for more than a few months, could it? Even the nutrient bars, which were designed to deliver essential vitamins and keep someone full for hours with only one bite, would eventually run out. What then?

And could Kuroo really make more antibiotics? Just how long would it take? He said it would take time, but what did that mean exactly?

He took a steadying inhale, slow and shaky, then let it out just as slow, peeling his hands from his face and pushing himself to stand. He needed to distract himself for now. Things might even be looking up. He needed to stay rational.

His cot was laden with blankets, an inviting, comforting sight amidst the chaos that was swirling around inside him. He should change and get comfortable and sleep on it. When he woke, he would have a fresh mind and a fresh outlook.

He stepped to his dresser, pulling a drawer out and fishing through his sleeping attire. He chose his favorite, some old sweats and a plain shirt that had writing in a foreign language on it. Beside his dresser was a long mirror, cloudy and worn over time, but it was sufficient for his needs. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner, haphazardly deemed as the “dirty” pile. He looked back to the mirror.

He drew a bit closer.

He touched the clouded reflection of his stomach. The distortion in the glass couldn’t even hide it: The red and orange rash that was spreading over his abdomen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeeeeeee. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no time to sit still and relax. The next problem was already on their door step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiku, here! This chapter is dedicated to all of my KuroDai Discord babes! Thanks for your support and love through this crazy black hole of a story.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be pulling another all-nighter.” The voice floated to his ears as if through a filter of water, muffled and distant. He blinked heavily, forcing his eyes to search for the source of the sound, and as if a veil was lifted, everything came into focus. Bokuto stared down at him expectantly.

“Akaashi made me leave, again. He gave me the trademark stare.”

“Akaashi? God, I wish he’d glare at me like that.” Bokuto sighed dramatically, eyes glossing over slightly with some unknown daydream playing behind his vision as he sucked on an electrolyte pack.

“You’re a masochist,” Kuroo said, taking a bite out of his nutrient bar. “It’s different when you’re the recipient.”

“Kuroo, my bro,” Bokuto said, his tone indicating that he wanted something and he inched towards him. “Ku- _bro_.”

“Stop,” he said, covering his full mouth and shooting him a glare, even as he fought a laugh. Maybe a glare from him would suffice instead?

“Introduce me.”

“What?” Kuroo said flatly, stopping mid-chew to narrow his eyes.

“Please?”

“Bo, I can hardly speak to him, myself, and we’re both scientists. Why would he want to talk to you?” He smirked and Bokuto pouted. “You’re all muscle and no brains.”

“Kuroo, pleeeeeeaaasseeee,” he whined. Why did he have to be best friends with someone like this? “I’ve never asked you for anything, man.”

“You asked me for my share of dinner just last night.”

Bokuto stared at him innocently, as if that somehow didn’t count. Kuroo made a frustrated noise and rubbed the back of his neck. “If I decide to, and I mean _if_ ,” he gave him a hard stare, accenting his point. “What is your plan?”

“Plan?” Bokuto tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“…You don’t even have a plan? Bokuto, no…”

“Don’t worry about that. Just leave that to me!”

But the opportunity came far sooner than he knew it would, and completely unanticipated. Kuroo and Akaashi entered the common area together the very next day, wrapping up a conversation as Kuroo peeled his bag from his back and set it on a couch. He pulled out his training gear and Akaashi eyed the items for a moment in disapproval. “Kuroo… I thought you said you were going back to your dorm.”

“I am, but I promised Bo we’d spar before the day was over.”

“Weren’t we just discussing the other day how little sleep you get?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, just so, and it was enough to make Kuroo laugh nervously. He cleared his throat. His salvation came from the commotion down the hall as the military squad began to fill the common area from the elevator, their training having concluded for the day. Akaashi’s eyes lifted to the noise and locked on Bokuto as he made a bee line for them.

“Hey hey heyyyy! Akaashi, Kuroo!” He addressed Kuroo’s colleague as if he’d known him since they were children, as if this wasn’t about to be their very first conversation. He half expected Akaashi to walk away, but he stood there watching. Wouldn’t he at least question why this loud lunatic knew his name?

“So this is your sparring partner?”  His voice, though monotonous, seemed to spark a ripple of excitement through the white-haired man.

“I’m Bokuto!” He extended a free hand, the other hand pulling his shirt up to wipe at his forehead. Kuroo wanted to face-palm. He was acting too casual and so unaware that it made him cringe internally. This was exactly Bokuto, though, and it would be a shame for him to act like someone he wasn’t, but he could have at least avoided the sweaty after-training stink and slop on the first real meeting. Akaashi clearly hesitated, reaching forward to take his hand slowly, and Kuroo risked a look up to the other scientist.

He had averted his gaze, the smallest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. If he hadn’t worked with Akaashi for years, he would have completely missed the forfeiture of information betrayed on his face.

“You should come with us!” Bokuto continued, hand falling back to his side as he pushed his shirt to the back of his neck to wipe away more moisture. Akaashi’s eyes lingered just a little too long on his bared midsection.

Kuroo wanted to kill Bokuto in that moment. This idiot wasn’t even trying and he’d already snagged Akaashi’s attention.

“No, thank you.” He said simply. He gave Kuroo a small nod of farewell and turned his back on them, walking away.

Bokuto watched him go.

Kuroo watched Bokuto watch Akaashi.  He wanted to slap the dumb grin off his face.

“He’s amazing.”

“Congratulations, you got all of ten words out of him.”

“Best ten words I’ve ever heard.”

“Three of those words were rejection.”

“Like Shakespeare.”

Kuroo had to hold back an ugly cackle. This kid had it _BAD_. As annoying as it all was, he was happy for his best friend. Should he tell him he’d caught Akaashi staring? …Not a chance. It was best to let this fool stumble all over himself to vie for his attention.

“Come, come, Romeo. Let’s channel that energy somewhere else before you scare someone.”

Kuroo sucked in a slow breath as his eyes opened and the dream faded like thin gossamer whispering over his mind. Incessant beeping filled his ears, bouncing off the acoustics of the concrete all around him. He blinked against the blur of the dark ceiling above him, tracing each crack in his vision absently, absorbing the information as his brain came to life. He sat up, holding his head like a headache had manifested, but there was no pain. He looked at his watch. It was the middle of the night, but his watch had woken him with an alarm that indicated his heart beat was too fast. It was more elevated than usual due to his broken ribs, the pain eliciting a higher beat, but this was beyond that. Clearly his memories had distressed him.

That they were even plaguing his dreams, now, was a bad sign. The images were choppy and seemed to happen at light speed, lacking detail like a real memory should have.

It gave him anxiety.

It was like fragments of himself were fading the farther he got from home.

He pushed the button on his watch, silencing the noise and checking the rest of his readings. His oxygen levels were continuing to rise slowly, but he was beginning to think maybe his watch was broken. He flipped to the next screen: his temperature was normal. He was not really surprised that he was up in the middle of the night, considering this was usually when he was travelling.

He stood from the floor.

Just as he’d told Daichi, he couldn’t sleep on the cot. He’d tried, actually, but it felt strange and he’d ended up back on the floor with his normal sleeping gear, making his ‘nest’ and wrapping himself up in a makeshift cocoon. He’d placed most of his items in the cot instead, including some water, and it was for this he was reaching. He took a long drink. His ribs ached with the deep breath he expelled.

They probably wouldn’t like him wandering around right now, but he couldn’t sit still. He hoped that, when he poked his head through the entrance, he wouldn’t be viewed as suspicious.

When he opened the thick wooden door, he was surprised to see Daichi there. He didn’t really know how the shifts were decided, but somehow he felt bad that he was keeping the leader of an underground gang busy with babysitting.

“Hey, Daichi.” It still felt strange saying his name.

“Kuroo. What are you doing awake? Can’t sleep?”

“Ah, actually,” he said, stepping from the room and shutting the door behind him. “My internal clock is a bit… off. I did a lot of travelling at night.”

“I see.”

There was nothing for a moment, an awkwardness rising between them until Daichi stood from his perch and motioned for Kuroo to follow him.

“We have a bit of a problem,” he admitted. The scientist didn’t quite know what to make of it. Was it about him? Had something happened to the sick? “There’s a storm coming.”

Oh.

“And?” He didn’t really know what the problem was. They happened quite often, so that he was worried about it was a bit strange. He tilted his head a little, following him down the ramp towards the common area.

It was much dimmer than it had been earlier. Everyone had gone to bed and only one light was left on to illuminate the downtrodden room. It was plush by modern standards, but there was no denying the worn wood, the torn upholstery, and the sheets that covered the decay. It was still wholesome. It was inviting, comfortable, and though it was junk heaped to create a semblance of life, it somehow felt more welcoming than the sterile, pristine furniture back at the capitol. It was strange that it should feel this way to him.

There was a large couch and several arm chairs curled around a low table and a book case against the wall which had a surprising amount of reading material. Books were often burned for warmth and it was hard to find large collections of them like this. He would have to scour the titles later. On the other half of the common room was a larger table, more appropriately suited for eating, or perhaps council and strategy seeing as there was no real food left in the world.

“ _And,_ ” Daichi articulated, bringing his concentration back to the situation. “It looks to be a big one. It will most likely knock out our power. We were originally setting up wind turbines to combat this constant issue.” Daichi turned and gave him a look that perplexed him. It almost looked as if it was filled with mirth despite the ominous discourse.

“So… what happened to that plan?”

“You did.”

Kuroo frowned, crossing his arms. “Oh, so it’s _MY_ fault you’re shit out of luck? How convenient.” Daichi laughed at him, resting a hand on the back of the couch to slant his weight into it. “Well then, I guess the only way to redeem myself is to help you deploy it, right?”

Daichi stiffened and was noticeably taken aback. There were many things swimming around in his head, and one of them was still a lingering distrust for this outsider. He wasn’t sure if he could believe in his character while he was on the surface; there was nothing stopping him from running away if he got up there. The second thought making him wary was the seemingly unending spew of kindness coming from him. No one simply gave. They always wanted something in return. Was the space for making antibiotics really that valuable to him?

The more he though on it, though, the more he realized most of his suspicions were founded only on superstition and paranoia. How could he run on the surface when he had no supplies? Why would he even run anyways? Why wouldn’t he immerse himself in a community if he was stuck there for an indeterminate amount of time?

He picked absently at the pieces of upholstery fraying on the wood beneath his hand, mulling his options in his mind.

“I’m sorry. It appears I have upset you. That was probably a bit presumptuous of me…” Kuroo said, clearly discouraged.

“To be honest, I have a hard time wrapping my head around why you’re doing all of this. I know what you said, but…” He paused.

“I know. I don’t blame you. A stranger waltzes into your life and offers up an endless amount of solutions without asking anything in return?” That was one way to put it, Daichi thought with a frown. “The thing is, I am asking for a lot in return,” he admitted, and the notion snagged Daichi’s undivided attention. Kuroo walked slowly along the common room, gliding his fingers along the dust covered shelves, trailing the wrinkles in fabrics draped over fixtures, and memorizing every crevice with his fingertips.

Daichi watched him carefully or, rather, he couldn’t tear his gaze from him. He looked a bit wild in faint light: the sharp lines of his jaw and high cheekbones were softened and his eyes were shadowed by his spiking hair, but his eyes caught the light at an angle, practically glowing. It set him on edge, made his fists clench subconsciously around the wooden support of the couch beneath him, made him swallow against a lump in his throat. The light seemed to absorb into his black shirt, making him look to be a silhouette rather than a human. If it weren’t for the lighter tint of his pants, he may have mistaken him for a shadow on the wall.

“I am asking for shelter, I am asking for a research facility, I’m asking for your trust, and I’m asking for resources, am I not? I haven’t had hot water in… who knows how long? I haven’t had clean air in longer; I don’t have to have a piece of machinery strapped to my face while I sleep and goggles suctioned to my eyes. It’s a form of freedom. I’m asking you for temporary freedom from the acid rains and suffocating dusts.”

He certainly had a way with words when he wanted to. His tongue spun intricate pictures and emotional sounds that entwined together to make something irrefutable, but he also knew it came from a place of transparency.

“So, yes, I am offering solutions because that’s all I have. That’s all I’m good at. You have what I want, and I have what you want.” He faltered. “I hope. I hope I have what you want, I mean.”

Daichi’s lips stretched into wide grin and he pushed himself off the couch back and dropped a hand to his hip. “Well, if you’re going to help us, then it’s time for you to meet Kenma. I have a feeling you will understand him far better than we can.” He was already making his way towards another branch of the base. It was a third hallway that stemmed from the common room, and though he’d been introduced to it briefly, he was unable to go beyond the door at the end into the “shop,” as they’d called it.

“Now? Isn’t everyone asleep?”

Daichi chuckled, but it sounded distressed. “Not him. I’m not sure if he actually sleeps, to be honest.” It was an embellishment, but Kuroo found it amusing nonetheless. He gently rapped upon the door, and a faint voice bid them enter.

The door gave way to a mess and slew of metals and wire, tools and lamps and a welding station, a cornucopia of parts and junk spewing forth from drawers and bins. Larger pieces of metals and plastics were stacked against each other on the walls, creating a labyrinth of isles to form what he assumed was actually an organized system. His jaw was gaping open as he followed the mess all the way up to the ceiling, where contraptions he couldn’t comprehend hung but seemed to serve no purpose, save for the lights and tool sling suspended above the table.

At it sat a smallish boy, curled over something in his hands, face blocked by a sheet of perfectly straight, chin-length black hair. He had imagined many things of this “Kenma,” but it was not a tiny munchkin fiddling with a screwdriver. At the same time, it was perfectly fitting and now he couldn’t imagine how he thought the tinkerer could look any other way. Something about him already made him want to tease him.

His brain was igniting with an excitement that sent electric shocks down his fingers. He clasped and unclasped them, muscles deftly longing to get a hold of a wrench and help with whatever it was he was about to see.

As if the gaze was burning a hole in the back of his head, Kenma turned and addressed him with wide, peering eyes that seemed to peel him apart layer by layer.  He imagined it was like a visual file. He could tell he was being labeled like a diagram in countless ways he could not discern. It was actually rather exciting. This was a mind that thought like his, perhaps even greater. He could see it in the movement of his pupils.

“Kenma, this is the man I was talking about,” Daichi said, his voice faintly echoing in the large chamber, which seemed odd to Kuroo given that it was full to the brim with scrap.

“This is a nifty little work station you have going here.” Kuroo said, venturing inward to get a closer look.

“Please don’t move anything.” His voice was calm, almost droning, and quiet.

“I get it, I get it: An organized mess.”

“Something like that.”

He spotted something on the table by Kenma. “Hey! Those are mine,” he whined, his hands springing up to his hips in mild annoyance. His mask and goggles were splayed across the workspace, the filters were opened and their contents in a heap.

“Uh, I didn’t know he’d do that when I gave it to him,” Daichi said, a bit embarrassed.

“Well, what else would he do with them in order to replicate them?” Kuroo shot him a look, but it was mostly to rub in the guilt, amused by his behavior. Daichi buried his face in his hands, embarrassed. He would have no trouble putting it back together at all. He’d done it a million times in basic training.

“He’s messing with you, Daichi.”

Kuroo whipped his head to look at Kenma, incredulous and slightly annoyed.

“Nark,” he said, sending him a childish pout. Kenma chuckled.

Daichi’s eyebrows almost flew off his face. Kenma laughed? If he hadn’t known any better, it would seem like the two had known each other forever. They fell in line so easily with each other, seemed comfortable in each other’s presence like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Maybe it was a science thing?

“I don’t suppose I could take a look at some of the things you’ve made? I’d love to swap tech. All this stuff is giving me a raging brainer.”

Daichi scrunched his nose up, body jolted backwards like the words had physically assaulted him. Raging…what? What an odd thing to say.

“Have at it.”

“I guess I’ll just… sit here?” He asked. He suddenly felt like the third wheel.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you,” Kuroo retorted.

“I’m not jealous,” Daichi said, none too amused, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. Why did he feel like he had to protect his honor, here? He was being mutinied, and of all the people in the world, Kenma was part of it? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Well, he couldn’t exactly leave, nor did he really desire to, seeing as he was on guard at the moment. “Someone has to babysit and the infant doesn’t get to dictate the lead.” He said, smirking.

“Ouch, Daichi. That hurts,” Kuroo said, clutching his chest as he poked out from behind one of the isles of metal.

“If you two are going to bicker like a married couple, please leave,” Kenma said flatly. This silenced them both momentarily and Daichi quickly changed the subject.

“We need to get those turbines up, and Kuroo has offered to help. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet, especially since he might actually understand your technical terms.” Daichi moved to what he was pretty sure was a chair situated close to Kenma. He straddled it and leaned on the back rest with his forearms. Kuroo watched out of the corner of his eye, half paying attention to the conversation, and half delighting in all the parts he could get his hands on. He was already dragging several scraps of broken solar panels out towards the work station.

“I told you not to move anything,” Kenma said, never even raising his gaze to the troublesome mite that bounced around his shop. The warning fell upon deaf ears.

“By the time we get the entourage in motion, I believe the storm will have arrived. The longer we wait, the more turbulent the storm will get and the longer we’ll be without power. If we can get these things up and running, even just one, we’ll have some energy to work with.” Daichi felt like he was the only one taking things seriously, but he knew deep down that no words were taken lightly.

“I agree,” said Kenma, simply. Well, that was easy. The energy, most importantly, would keep the air flowing, but it would also supply them with a means to heat water, and have at least _some_ light. They couldn’t very well start a fire in the base when there was no ventilation. If the air shut off, it wasn’t entirely detrimental at first, but if left unattended long enough, the air would eventually die out and they’d have to open the entrances to the base. It would leave them incredibly exposed, not only to the elements, but prying eyes.

“We’ve been fortunate that the storms we’ve endured until now have dissipated within a few days, but we also know from word of mouth that some storms can last for a week or more.”

“Indeed they can,” Kuroo piped in. “It’s actually quite incredible you haven’t been caught in one.”

“We honestly didn’t believe it,” he admitted, resting his chin on his forearms. “It’s hard to believe in things you’ve never seen. There are rumors and exaggerations that have no basis and it’s difficult to pick the truth out of fabrications.”

“Fair enough.”

“The last storm that hit us lasted for five days and it was quite a scare. Since they hit without much warning, we hadn’t really had an opportunity to fan out for supplies.” He was revealing a bit of information that made them vulnerable, but if Kenma seemed to have dissected Kuroo’s personality enough that he was comfortable around him, then he was feeling more confident in him, as well. It didn’t seem to faze Kuroo. He imagined he’d heard the same story dozens of times on his travels, and possibly had to do a bit of scavenging himself.

“Oh, that reminds me. Kenma, I have a reclaiming suit. Even if this place has a source of water, it would be beneficial to create more. You should take a look at it.” Kenma hummed in agreement, never looking up from what Daichi now guessed was another mask.

“Reclaiming suit?” He asked, pulling his eyes from Kenma’s work to look over at Kuroo.

“Yeah. It takes the body’s…” he searched for the right words. “…natural fluids and recycles them for drinking water.”

There was a long, long silence between them as Kuroo did not offer up any more of an explanation. Daichi narrowed his eyes in thought, tumbling the information back and forth until he started to get the picture. “Wait. You mean…” He paused. “Drink your own…” His nose crinkled and his mouth refused to say the next word.

“ _Clean_. It’s clean by the time it reaches you again, Daichi.” Kuroo said. The other man looked a little pale. “Would you rather die of thirst? The body can only go so long without hydration. It’s quite rare to find a place that has water like you do. Don’t you have your own recycling system?”

“Yes,” Kenma answered for him.

“See? It’s similar, I’m sure.”

“Back to the matter at hand,” the leader said, clearing his throat. “At first light, I’d like to get a group out there and get those blades up before the winds make it impossible to do so.”

“They’re gigantic chunks of metal, are they not? It’s going to be difficult getting even one blade up,” Kuroo countered. He wasn’t trying to rain on their parade, so to speak, but he needed them to be realistic. “It’s going to require quite a few individuals with endurance and strength all working together and efficiently. And where are they? I didn’t see anything when I was above ground.”

“That’s because they’re on the top of the canyon.”

Kuroo stared at him. “We’ll be doing this at the top of a canyon while a storm draws on us?”

“We don’t really have any other choice. We’ve been constructing these turbines for months and this needs a meticulous plan and it needs to happen now. I already saw the dust clouds on the horizon. The only thing on our side right now is that we already carried the blades to the top.”

“That’s a start,” Kuroo said. He looked as if he was already strategizing in his mind, even though he hadn’t received the rundown from Kenma. It was truly amazing. “Alright, we better get this going, then.”

Kenma explained the workings of the custom turbines while Daichi and Kuroo loaded tools into bags and fished a ladder from the supply room. The blades were taller than Kuroo, and probably three times as heavy, Daichi said, so it would require two men each for one blade to hoist the blade, one on the ladder to guide it, one to attach it to the rotor, and one to hold the ladder steady. After Kenma’s debrief and explanation of the turbine generator, they drew up their plan and began setting it in motion, even while the others slept. Every moment was precious. Daichi assured him there was a path they could follow to the top, but it they would be so exhausted by the time they were done that the journey back down could be extremely dangerous.

“You have to let me go, too,” Tora proclaimed.

“That’s not a good idea when you’ve just started treatment. Your strength hasn’t recovered, and exertion will hinder the healing process,” Kuroo said, matter-of-factly. Tora did not look happy.

“He’s right, Tora,” Daichi said, standing his ground. “I also need you to be here to protect the others, especially Yachi. She’s vulnerable right now.” Tora stayed silent then, lowering his gaze. He certainly knew how to address each character in this place, didn’t he? It was rather admirable, actually. It was a talent that few had.

The team was decided by Daichi. “Ukai.”

The man in question stepped forward. His hair was turning blonde from exposure to the sun, pulled back securely with a headband, but he looked a bit rough around the edges. He was the oldest in the group and his grandfather had been one of the men that had pioneered the shelter. He’d unintentionally cultivated stragglers and taught them everything he could before he passed.

Daichi greatly respected his grandfather and he awarded that same respect to the grandson who stood before him, Keishin, whom he felt strange labeling as “second in command” when he should really be the one who took up the helm. Though “Keishin” was his first name, they had never fallen out of the habit of calling him by his last name out of reverence for his family lineage. Ukai had asked them to address him by his given name, but when he realized it was more difficult correcting them, he’d given up the battle and saved his energy.  “As discussed, you will be leading us since you also lead the first turbine mission. You know the canyon better than anyone else.”

He nodded and took over, turning to the others. “When we get to the top, we will all need to work together to get each blade attached to the rotor. It sounds easy now, but we will be dealing with some pretty intense wind when we’re up there. Everyone needs to focus and stay alert.

“Tanaka, Daichi, Suga, Kuroo, and I will be making the expedition to the canyon. Kuroo and Daichi received the details from Kenma, so they will instruct execution once we’re at the top. The rest of you will need to be on high alert to guard the shelter. Is everyone clear?” A rallied cry filled the air. “Good.”

Daichi took this moment to address the elephant in the room. “As for everyone who is staying behind…” He hesitated. “If it seems like we are taking too long, do _not_ send anyone out into the storm. We have each other’s backs and no one gets left behind, but you must not send anyone else out, do you understand?” The agreement was far less passionate and much more solemn, but everyone understood. “Asahi, you are in command while Ukai and I are out.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kuroo felt rather guilty that he was the only one outfitted with a filtration system strapped to his face. The others were settling for bandannas, and Kuroo had offered to give his mask to someone else, but they all agreed that he needed to stay in pristine health to reduce the risk for complications down the road. It went against his every nature. He wanted to save people, did not believe his life was superior or more important than anyone else’s, but his rational mind was quite aware that it was the opposite. It was a dichotomy that tore his insides apart every time he was faced with the difficult decision of “them or me.” Thus, he’d taken the mask with little struggle because they were right. It never made him feel any better, however.

The winds were already strong enough to stir up the loose dust that had settled on the canyon floor, creating a haze around them that was only combated by the use of their goggles. It was amazing how easy it was to scavenge eyewear, so much so that they couldn’t possible want for more. Unfortunately, that means some would have to settle for goofy looking swimming goggles, while others had something more of an industrial look, but no one complained. They were all grateful that they had anything at all to shield them from the elements.

Aside from dust, those with longer hair were faced with strands whipping across their lenses and it obscured their vision just enough to be annoying. It was not, the slightly obscured vision that really bothered them, however, so much as the locks and dirt hitting any exposed skin with so much force that it was beginning to sting. Kuroo was used to it, but he imagined some swollen faces in the near future.

They’d been climbing for a good half hour before they reached the top, but once they reached the clear altitude, the wind intensified doubly. He could see the towers now, smaller than he imagined, but rightly so since the force of wind up here was enough that taller towers were not required. When they reached the bases, he saw the blades set flat about the bases, ready for deployment.

The team set about their tasks without hesitation, and Kuroo grabbed the tools and bolts he’d need at the top and shoved them into the pockets on his pants. The sturdy ladder was opened in place, and Suga was to hold the base with an iron grip while Kuroo and Daichi ascended. Kuroo slung ropes around his shoulder, strapped across his chest to keep them from blowing away. He’d need them to strap himself to the body and tail of the turbine to keep him secure against the winds while he twisted himself under and into the rotor during deployment. He’d also need the second set to throw back down and aid in lifting the blades with pulleys. While he climbed up the steps, Ukai and Tanaka were beginning to drag the first blade into position.

Kuroo had a much more difficult time keeping his balance once he reached the top than he thought he would. His body wanted to wobble in every direction as the winds swirled and, against his better judgment, he looked out into the distance into the heart of the storm. It was frightening. It looked more like a giant tidal wave of brown forming a gigantic, solid wall rather than a storm that would bring rains and lightening. But he knew better. He could see the flashing behind the curvature of the clouds, and he was fairly certain they’d misjudged the velocity of the storm. His heart began to speed up.

He straddled the barrel of the turbine, squeezing his thighs tightly around the metal and lowering himself onto his stomach to wrap the ropes around the tail, first. He made quick work of the knots and tugged on them hard before carefully spinning to the other direction and doing the same around the wider body. He pulled the ropes up, core engaging to keep him balanced and thighs gripping even tighter as he wrapped the thick twine around himself. He pulled again, harder, and tested the mobility and give. The space between the rotor and the body was smaller than he anticipated, though he was rather impressed by the professional-looking scoring and inverted T attachment that would aid him greatly. Lining up the blades to the ring would be the most difficult part, but once the root attachment was in place, it was a matter of bolting things as quickly and tightly as possible.

The longer set of rope was uncurled with the block for the pulley and he lowered himself to reach for the hook to fasten the clip. He clunked the heavy metal pieces together, locking it into place and pulling at the bock to make sure it was secure. Next, he unraveled the rope on each side, tossing one to Daichi, who caught it without issue, and dropped the other to the two at the bottom.

They made quick work of securing the first blade and soon it was on its way up. He flashed them a thumb up, unzipping the pocket that held the wrench and the pocket that held the bolts and nuts. Daichi was half way up the ladder, pulling on the rope to help hoist, and providing stabilization for the blade so that the winds would not catch it and send them all toppling. He, too, had strapped himself down to anchor himself to the ladder with bungee cords that allowed for a little more maneuverability. He grabbed the blade and the two below pushed harder, and they guided it up to Kuroo. As soon as it was close enough, he was pushing the inverted T into its slot. Matching it up exactly was a little more difficult than anticipated given the increasing violence of gusting air, but he managed and swiftly secured the bolts and nuts that followed. The next part would be the most difficult.

He signaled the boys at the bottom to push the blade. They pushed to the left as hard as they could, but wind carried the blade slowly to the right. It didn’t matter. The blade was coming around and that’s what counted. He kept the turning steady with his hands, lest the blade pick up too much speed and become dangerously off balance. The two below had already lifted the next and Daichi grabbed the edges, pulling it up with the aid of the pulley. Kuroo’s eyes shot back and forth from the coming blade and the one at the wind’s mercy, his breath labored, his muscles already creaking under his skin with the constant effort to keep himself steady.

A sudden gust threw him forward, but he caught himself easily enough and lowered himself further, flush against the metal of the barrel. The first, secured blade came around to its one third position and he flung the base of the next blade into place, barely sliding it into the root attachment and slamming the bolts into place. He dropped the nut, tried to catch it, but watched it fall and waved frantically to warn Tanaka and Ukai. They dodged it with ease and let out a breath of relief, for he wasn’t worried about the part, but the humans on which the piece of metal would impart significant damage. They had prepared for gravity, packing extra nuts and bolt for just this error. He slipped another out of his pocket, spinning it in place on the treads and pulling at the wrench with a great deal of force. He jerked hard with the last turn, securing it. The next bolt seemed to be easier, but the wind was pushing harder and harder each minute.

His stomach lurched up into his ribs as another gust of wind pushed him clean off the barrel. He hung beneath, and he could vaguely hear yelling through the howl of the wind in his ears. Daichi had almost fallen off the ladder, but he was shouting up at Kuroo instead of worrying about himself. He signaled that he was fine and made a swirl with his fingers to keep things moving. Using the weight of the blades on the rotor, he was able to pull himself up and turn the blades at the same time, but he could feel the wind pulling on the metal much harder than before.

He meticulously juggled his weight with the turning of the rotor, grunting into his mask as he shimmied his way back to the top. His breathing was labored, his hands were slightly atremble as he went through calculations in his head on the speed of the winds and how much time that meant they had. The third blade wobbled tumultuously, swaying sharply, even with Daichi pulling with all his strength to keep it vertical.

It was just out of Kuroo’s reach. He stretched as far as he could, the force of it ripping a yell from his throat as his ribs screamed in his chest. As soon as his fingers felt traction, he shoved the attachment in and grit his teeth against searing pain, jerking the wrench back and forth as quickly as he could and securing the bolts and nuts. He reached into the body of the turbine, behind the hub and pulled the manual lever for the break that was attached to the gearbox and withdrew his arm.

With a final effort, he detached the bock of the pulley and barely managed to keep it in his hands. He lowered the block slowly on the rope until Tanaka grabbed it, and he was already pulling at the knots on his body, untying himself as he desperately tried to keep himself from falling. The descent down the ladder was far less treacherous than he thought it would be, considering he was almost thrown from the top of the turbine. He slid down rather easily and tossed the rest of the rope to Tanaka at the bottom.

He fished the tools from his cargo pants, dumping them into the pack haphazardly. They were all scrambling to start the trek down the canyon. None of them could hear each other anymore, no matter how hard they shouted. The wind was so strong that they were constantly pushing against one another to keep themselves from falling over. They actually thought they were pretty fortunate the rain hadn’t started, until the first drop hit Suga’s goggles, then Daichi’s, and they signaled that the rains were coming.

The farther down they got, the more slippery it became. They slowed, steps becoming tentative and apprehensive and their feet threatened to give out from under them. Daichi skid, nearly falling, but Suga caught him and slid too, barely managing to hold them both up. They steadied and kept moving, the rain coming down faster and faster with each step until it was falling upon them in sheets. The bandannas upon their faces were dripping, moisture sliding down their necks in rivulets and disappearing under their coats.

Kuroo jumped off the last level, reaching his hand out to help Tanaka. Ukai hopped off, assisted Suga, and Daichi followed soon after. The winds pushed them into each other, feet sliding and the first bright flash of lightening crackled to the right above the canyon.

It was actually a nice illumination to their surroundings. With the sudden torrent, everything became a muddy mist and it was difficult to see around them, a gradient of ashen brown from the clouds to the dull red of the soaking dirt. The heavy clouds blocked most of the light, rendering the area to a dark haze. They could make out the outlines of the canyon, but fine detail was lost in the chaos of falling water, even though it was daytime.

All Daichi could hear over the roar of the downpour was his own breathing. He could feel his lungs gasping for breath, the thick, wet fabric of his bandanna sticking to his face, and his goggles were covered in droplets, making it difficult to focus. He looked back over his shoulder, could hardly see his companions against the side of the canyon as the rain fell in buckets around them. The lightening lit their surroundings again momentarily but the water was coming down so hard that it was hitting the ground and bouncing back upwards around them like waterfalls reaching towards the sky.

One, two, three… There were five people including himself.

Someone was missing.

He skid to a halt and the three mud-covered figures caught up to him and stopped, shouting something but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. One pulled at his arm and he used his fingers to wipe at his goggles. Suga. He whipped his head around to the other side. Tanaka. Ukai.

Where was Kuroo?

He shoved the three towards the base and motioned for them to go. Another streak of lightening. He barely caught the outline of someone scrambling in their direction. The thunder split through the air and rumbled around them, making his ears ache and his mind seemed to throb with it. He watched, eyes frantically searching through the rain, but his legs were already taking him towards where he’d seen Kuroo.

He shouted for him, but he couldn’t even hear his own voice. He was kicking up splashes of muck, but he only knew because he could feel the weight of it on his boots. He tripped and went forward, barely catching himself before smacking his face into mire. He looked at his feet.

Kuroo was lying on the ground. Daichi’s hands were moving before his brain could even catch up, grabbing the man in the dirt and hoisting him up. He grabbed Kuroo’s face, and there was red that was much too bright to be mud. His heart hammered and he was dragging him as hard as he could towards the underground base. He could feel Kuroo trying to help, pushing off the ground with his feet in an attempt to speed the process along. His arm was tight around Daichi’s shoulders and feet blindly following his lead, trusting the leader would guide him back, trusting he wouldn’t leave him behind.

The down ramp was not an option. If they opened it now, the rains would flood down into the shelter. They had to make their way to the hatch in the back. The second entrance was above the ground, enclosed in a small enclave of the hill. His companions were waiting for him.

The hatch came opene and they carefully helped Kuroo inside. He was mostly using his own strength the climb down the ladder, with Ukai’s help from below and Daichi watching from above. He latched the hatch closed and the rain stopped. Suddenly, their ears had to adjust to silence again, only a mix of breathing, squeaking shoes, coughing, and distressed words echoing as they all tried to communicate at once. Kuroo’s feet finally hit the ground but he couldn’t see, his goggles covered in mud and blood. He ripped them from his face so he could get his bearings, and when he finally registered what he was seeing he realized he was falling. He reached out for something, anything in front of him for balance and held on tightly.

He kept going, however.

The expected smack of his skull against concrete didn’t come, but the vertigo in his head made him feel like he was spinning.

“Kuroo!” It was Daichi’s voice, and as he fought desperately to open his eyes, he realized now that his head was saved from the cement by Daichi’s hands. He could feel them peeling his mask from his face. “Kuroo, hey!” He swallowed hard, trying once again to open his eyes and this time he finally saw a semblance of a face.

“Daichi,” he said, as if confirming it to himself.

“What happened to him?” Someone asked. He couldn’t tell who it was, but it wasn’t the face in front of him.

“I don’t know. Kuroo, are you ok?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he repeated, but his breathless words were not convincing.

“Get some towels, quick. And clean water!” Daichi called to the other three. They sprung into action and he looked back down at Kuroo. "Kuroo, look at me."

He blinked through the haze. His head was pounding and the ringing in his ears muffled the words coming from the man above him. Steadily, his sight began to clear and he was looking into big brown eyes that looked entirely too worried. He hadn't noticed how rich the brown was before, or the small flecks of green around his pupils. How had he missed it? It was so beautiful.

Now, he could feel the cold hands on his cheeks gripping his face, a contrast to the warm breath leaving Daichi in small puffs. He could feel the humid aspirations against his lips, like his whole body was ricocheting from dulled awareness to hypersensitivity. The weight of Daichi on top of him was oddly comforting, like he was surely moored to the surface of the earth and not spinning like his vision implied.

He reached up to grab one of Daichi's hands on his face, more for his own reassurance than anything else. His face softened with relief as he received the affirmation and a comforting squeeze.

"What happened?"

"A rock slide, I think," he said, closing his eyes again. "Something hit me out of nowhere. I'm fine. Just a little dizzy."

"Kuroo, you're bleeding."

"Oh. Possible concussion, then, I suppose." Daichi's face returned again to one of horror. "I'll be okay. I've had one before in basic training."

"That... doesn't make me feel better."

Kuroo laughed, but it was strained with pain. As if his ribs weren't enough, now he had head trauma. He'd be hurting tomorrow, for sure. "You know, I've had an awful lot of bad luck since meeting you." Daichi couldn't help but chuckle, though it didn’t have much energy and was rather laden with guilt. They stared at each other for a moment as the tension of the day’s events finally began to disappear from their bodies. He sagged downward, resting his forehead on Kuroo's shoulder as the exhaustion finally hit him as well, adrenaline fading. He released a deep sigh. Kuroo blinked at the ceiling a bit. Daichi finally rolled himself to the side with great effort, joining him in looking above at nothing in particular.

"I'm glad you're okay. You really scared me back there..."

"Can't get rid of me that easily," he returned with a lopsided, tired smile.

The three others returned with the water and towels, carefully sitting Kuroo up and attempting to dry him, even though he insisted on doing himself. They were all soaked to the core and it seemed like wasted energy trying to dry him. Daichi sat beside him and wiped the blood from his face with a clean, warm, wet towel. Kuroo sighed into it, leaning into the heat, eyes feeling heavy again. He pried them open, trying to keep them that way as they tended to him. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but he also enjoyed the warmth on his face and neck… until Daichi was trying to dress his head wound and he gave a pained hiss. It stung more than he wanted to admit. They needed to clean it quickly and it would be a lot easier if he wasn’t covered in polluted water.

"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," Daichi said, leaning in to lift Kuroo.

"Are you propositioning me?" Kuroo slurred with a snicker. Daichi's face turned bright red and he dropped Kuroo, standing abruptly.

"You're clearly fine," Daichi said with a frown, folding his arms over his chest and Kuroo grunted in pain.

"Ow."

"And here I was worried about you." He clicked his tongue in irritation and motioned for Ukai and Tanaka to lift him. "Come on, then. Let's get him to the medical bay."

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. I'm bad at ending chapters! :D But look at that slow burn starting to burn! I feel like I wrote SOOOOO much for this chapter but nothing really happened? Maybe it's just me. Hahahah. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lines between Kuroo's mission and his personal feelings are beginning to blur dangerously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to:
> 
> Yikesitsash – Donated to the relief fund of my sister, who lost everything in the California fire. You are a fantastic cheerleader and always remind me to have confidence in myself. It really helps.
> 
> The KD Discord babes –Thank you to those of you that chose to remain anonymous who also donated. I was so moved and I am so floored by the support and love from all of you. I wish there was some way I could repay your kindness, so I hope this chapter will aid me in that.
> 
> I’d also like to thank laomin for being a constant rock through this writing process. I adore her and my life is infinitely better with her in it!

Kuroo hissed as Daichi dabbed at the wound on his head with antiseptic. He occasionally shot the man above him dirty looks, to which Daichi only laughed.

“That’s what you get for such a terrible joke.” Kuroo pouted a little, but stayed quiet, accepting his fate. The pain began to ebb on his skull, though it was still tender and throbbed sharply at times. He was used to pain. This was something he could process easier than a guilty conscience. The sacrifices he’d had to make since he was young still haunted him; the people he had to let die, prioritizing himself over others, and those he’d had to kill just for his own survival. Everything was for the greater good, but it certainly didn’t feel like it when he had to let the very people he was trying to save die.

“What are you thinking about?” Daichi asked, discarding one of the bloody rags and pulling a needle and suture from the kit on the counter. He’d had to do this before but, for some reason, he felt a bit apprehensive having to do it for Kuroo. The injured man didn’t even bother looking up, waving his hand a little.

“Nothing much.”

“Oh, really? You look rather downtrodden, and I know it’s not just because you’re tired.”

Damn his astute observations. Clearly Kuroo was out of practice because his poker face was failing miserably.  It had been a few months since human contact before he met this group, but he felt like the more he stayed away from the capitol, the more his emotions seemed to stray. Not to mention it was exhausting trying to pretend not to feel anything when the once dull aching was starting to shoot jolts of pain through his entire body.

“‘Downtrodden?’ That’s a big word for a country bumpkin.” He said, quickly diverting his attention.

“Excuse me? I know how to _read_.”

He took a deep breath as the needle pierced the skin of his scalp, but he hardly flinched and Daichi was incredulous. This was that assassin Kuroo that he’d seen above the surface, wasn’t it? He felt cold, guarded, and it made Daichi a bit sad, but it also made him feel pity for him. What had he gone through to have to revert to this any time emotions started to show? It brought him back to the same questions he’d been asking himself since he got there: Was everything an act? Which was the real Kuroo? Was he guarded because he was hiding something, or was it something else entirely?

“What’s the capitol like?” He asked carefully, keeping the question vague enough that it wasn’t too invasive. He was hoping he wouldn’t recede into himself even more.

At first he thought that Kuroo wouldn’t answer, but he took a little breath and moved slowly to sit back in the chair to rest. Daichi followed just as slowly with the suture, keeping his focus on the stitching.

“It looks the same as everywhere else.”

 Daichi was surprised to hear this. He had imagined a thriving civilization, small communities having figured out some sort of way to manage life with far more luxury and food than anyone on the outskirts. He risked a look at Kuroo’s face, but his eyes were far away, as if he was actually seeing what he was describing.

“The city is in ruins, crumbling all around you, and old cars litter the streets, rusting and disintegrating and contaminating the air even more. The air quality in the cities is much worse than the country side. Rust Sickness spread like fire there. We couldn’t get the antibiotics out fast enough.” Daichi listened intently, letting him guide the conversation and concentrating on infection control and methodical stitching to minimize scarring and maximize grafting. “Our building is not in pristine shape, but that’s mostly for show. The outside looks like any of the other buildings around it, but the interior is reinforced and sickeningly perfect.”

“Wow. That’s… not how I thought you’d feel about it at all,” Daichi said. He tied the thread of the stitching.

“Surprise.” He replied, the crassness intentionally obvious. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice, it’s home, but…” he paused, looking for the right words to describe what he was trying to say. “It feels needlessly lavish when the rest of the world is hardly surviving.”

“I see…” he said quietly, putting the soiled tools in a bin with water and soap. He rinsed his gloves thoroughly, then laid them on the side of the sink. He grabbed an unsoiled rag and dipped it in clean water, then returned to Kuroo and began to pull at locks of dark ebony hair to remove the blood that had soaked into it.

“The base is outfitted with a lot of technology used for training and development of sciences and military. The military unit is on the second floor, the common room and dorms are on the third floor, and the science labs are on the fourth floor. The first floor is for mission deployment and houses our vehicles.”

“Is it big?” He moved to another set of locks, pulling the strands through the cloth.

“Yeah. It’d be easy to get lost if you don’t know where you’re going.” Kuroo stopped, appearing to mull over something in his mind. “I miss my friends,” he chuckled a little, as if that thought was somehow laughable or wrong.

“I imagine,” he replied, moving to the next section. “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

“Too long. A little less than eight months. Feels like ten years.”

Daichi hummed a bit, his mind tumbling through his own interpretation of what Kuroo’s life must have been like. He was surprised that the other man was volunteering such information, assuming he would have kept things rather confidential, especially the layout of the base. Perhaps he felt it was equivalent exchange, seeing as he knew most of the ins and outs of their hideout as well. “How long did it take to become who you are?”

“My entire life.”

Daichi’s hands stopped momentarily. The statement made him strangely morose. Before he could ask for clarification, Kuroo continued, and he resumed cleaning his hair.

“My parents were scientists. They died when I was rather young on a mission, but they’d already started educating me on principles as far back as I can remember. They called me a prodigy because I soaked up scientific information like a sponge, but I disagree. If you knew them, you’d think I pale in comparison.”

Daichi found that extremely hard to believe based on everything he’d seen, but then he realized he hadn’t seen much to be able to actually compare. His brows furrowed in concentration, absorbing the information and digesting it as it came, the picture of Kuroo beginning to form.

“They prepared me for what I was going to see outside as best they could, but it was still shocking realizing that everywhere other than our headquarters was a disaster and rotting away.” He paused, eyes moving back and forth in thought. He could practically see the landscapes reflected in his eyes, the smoke and dust curling in his vision like a playback of everything he’d encountered. He felt like he could only imagine it, and yet he’d witnessed it every day, himself. “I was rather shy when I was a child, but after they died, it was like some switch had flipped. I would disappear to the military floor and watch the training because I wanted to protect the ones I cared about, not just with science. I started copying what I saw until someone caught me. I was in pretty big trouble actually,” he snickered at the memory, some inside joke giving him satisfaction. “But it wasn’t because I was trying to learn military tactics, it was because I was skipping out on my studies without telling anyone where I was going, and no matter how many times they asked me, I refused to tell them where I’d been.”

Daichi chuckled in amusement, a little smile tugging at his lips. “You were quite the handful.” He finished removing the blood from Kuroo’s hair, stepping away to rinse the washcloth and begin his clean up in the sink.

“They decided to let me do both, in the end. It’s very rare for an individual to be in both departments, but I displayed mastery in both.” He paused. “I mean, I’m not saying that out of ego,” he said, quickly correcting himself.

“It’s not ego if it’s a fact,” he replied slyly. He shot him a glance over his shoulder, and he caught a little abashed frown. Was it lack of confidence or was he just being humble? He supposed he’d have to figure that out himself.

“Anyways,” he said, quickly moving on. “I saw my first plant when I was 7 years old.”

Daichi stopped, keeping his sight locked on the sink in front of him. “Oh? That must have been something incredible. What was it like?”

“It was the moment that changed my life. That’s when I knew I was doing something truly important.” Daichi blinked, turning to peer at Kuroo with wide eyes. This was such an intimate conversation, and he was honestly having a difficult time listening. It wasn’t that he was put off by anything that he was saying, but he felt like he was getting a glimpse of something he wasn’t supposed to. He knew this information was high-confidentiality, and either Kuroo was putting a trust in him that he wasn’t prepared for, or he’d hit his head much harder than he thought. “You should see it Daichi... Seeing a real plant up close is... it's something I honestly can't describe. The vivacity of the green, actually seeing it in person is so much different than what you see in books. It’s like you’re seeing the color green for the first time. It's just... Amazing. I can't believe the Earth was covered in it and now it's like this.”

Daichi was fascinated listening to him. The way his face brightened and the hard lines of his forehead softened as tension released into peaceful calm was something he wasn’t prepared to witness, nor was he prepared for the way it made him feel. “We have a few specimens in the lab that we’ve been preserving, but space is so limited and it’s hard to preserve them when we haven’t determined how to keep soil from contamination. The soil we have is clean, but we have no way of reproducing more at this time. That’s my mission, essentially. We have a whole library of seeds that we’ve kept for the moment we finally figure everything out. Any time I lost confidence in myself or got frustrated, I’d go sit in the green room to remind myself why I was working myself to the bone.”

Daichi gnawed absently on his lip before moving to pull a chair up in front of Kuroo. He wanted him to rest, but the more he got to know Kuroo, the more he desired personal information from him. His story was fascinating. It was an entirely different world that Daichi hadn’t even known existed until Kuroo had stumbled into their lives. While Daichi wanted to keep Kuroo’s history between themselves, he knew that he would have to divulge some of it to his follow comrades. He had to know that, right? He had to know that Daichi would have to say something to someone, because they shared everything, and knowing a government still existed was something they hadn’t thought possible.

Did that mean he was prepared for it? He was opening a very dangerous door, something Daichi was not taking lightly. He was giving Daichi a piece of himself to indicate he trusted him, possibly with his life. He wasn’t quite ready for the impact the realization had upon him.

“Kuroo…” he started, reaching forward to touch his hand.

The door to the medical bay swung open and they both looked up to Ukai plodding inside.

“How is he?”

Daichi stood to meet him. “He’s fine,” he said, glancing back at Kuroo. He looked exhausted and beaten. His eyes were half lidded, and he had reached up to hold his ribs and a wave of guilt soaked Daichi to the core. Lower, he said: “I think he really needs some rest. He’s been through a lot since he got here and he’s given us so much.”

“I agree. I actually came because Yachi was asking about him. Seems she’s quite attached to him.”

“Is something wrong?” Kuroo said, standing to join them, catching himself when a wave of pain hit him like a bus.

“No, she just wanted to thank you again. That’s just how she is. She’s already feeling a bit better, but I told her not to push herself.”

“And the others?” Daichi asked.

“They’re fine.” He gave them a confident grin.

“Honestly, it’s too soon for any real improvement from medication, so I think it’s mostly psychosomatic.” Kuroo said. He realized he was ready to lie down, but he didn’t want to do it here. _I should really head back to my room,_ he thought with mild panic. He was still a little dizzy if he turned his head too fast, and he didn’t really want people to see him like this, but it was the pain that was wearing him down, now, not the dizziness. It rippled through him like thousands of nails were clawing at his muscles, threatening to rip them clean off his body.

“Psycho-what?”

“It just means the improvement is mostly in their heads,” he said, chuckling, but even the small amount of movement against his ribs made his legs want to buckle. “It’s actually somewhat of a good thing. When the mind is strong, the body can heal faster.”

“You don’t look so good,” Ukai said bluntly. “I think you should take it easy for a while.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He was already pushing past them to go towards the rooms. Daichi followed, staying by his side to ensure he made it back. He saw that the color had drained from his face, the furrow in his brow returning deeper than it had before.

This was something of a setback, he thought. He knew the scientist had wanted to set up the antibiotic station as soon as possible, and he imagined it wasn’t so simple anymore. If he couldn’t see well or move well, or even concentrate, would he really be able to set it up correctly? That was worrisome, and a sinking feeling plummeted in his stomach.

“Sorry. I really messed things up.” The words hit Daichi unexpectedly, and he pulled Kuroo’s arm gently to stop him just before they reached his bedroom door.

“You’re sorry? What are you even saying?” He was distressed, panic on his face.

“I really,” he grunted a bit, holding his side with a visible wince. “I think I tore a muscle in my ribs when I was up there. It’s getting harder to move.” He wouldn’t tell him he could have separated the muscle from bone completely. He didn’t want to frighten him.

Daichi bit his lip and looked down at the hand splayed upon his long torso. His face paled. He could see the swelling through his shirt, the roundness protruding underneath his fingers, and he knew it was only going to get worse.

“Kuroo…” He started, at a loss for words. “I’m the one that’s sorry. This is all my fault. We need to get you into bed for a while. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

 The soft light of the dim bulb in his room was easier on his eyes, allowing him to let up the squinting and relax a bit once he entered his space. For some odd reason, being surrounded by familiar items was calming and made it feel like he was safe.

His ribs hurt like a bitch. He knew the moment he’d felt the searing pain through his body up on the turbine that he’d really fucked them up this time. It wasn’t so much the pain that was the most bothersome but the fact that, if it was bad enough, it would be difficult to move for a few weeks. He could get through pain. This was the epitome of bad, to say the least. He was glad there was a buffer of time that allowed for this with little consequence… as long as no one else contracted Rust Sickness.

“You weren’t kidding… You really did sleep on the floor.” Daichi said as he came up behind him, scanning the heap of blankets.

“Habit,” he replied simply. His breath was slightly labored, the last of the adrenaline dissipating from his system and each inhale becoming more painful. “Shit,” whispered, clenching his teeth. It had been a while since he’d been in this much pain. Perhaps this was the worst he’d ever felt. His legs wanted to give out from under him, his stomach quaked with the effort to keep from gasping… or was it to keep him from throwing up at this point?

He’d only thrown up once from pain when he’d first started physical training. He’d never thought he’d have this feeling again, not with how much he’d experienced in training after.

“Please sleep on the cot. It’ll be easier than trying to raise yourself up off the floor.” He received only a small grunt of surrender. He set to work pulling apart the little mound and replicating it as best he could onto the cot. He could see Kuroo wobbling out of the corner of his eye, a sheen of sweat forming on his skin, and he looked like he might black out at any second. “I know this is going to hurt, but we need to get you into some fresh clothes.” He didn’t put up much of a fight as he guided him to the dresser and helped him lean onto it. He could hear the strained panting in his ear as he reached down to meticulously pull the fabric up his torso, doing his best to pull the back over his head first and slide the rest down his arms to avoid moving them as much as possible.

Beneath the dim light, the bruises all over his body were intensified. The sickening purple and yellow on his oblique muscles spread from his side towards his chest in a gradient of damage that looked too painful to fathom. This was also where the swelling was pooling beneath the surface, and he was sure that this complication from the mission wouldn’t have happened if his ribs hadn’t been broken.

Kuroo’s head sagged, as if the simple effort of keeping himself upright was becoming impossible. Daichi had to admit he was curious, unable to help letting his eyes roam around his smooth yet marred skin, each mark an untold story, until they reached the bruises on his shoulders. They were consistent with the shape of the straps of his pack, the heft having dug into his flesh for so long that it created mild, rectangular bruising over his collar bones that stretched up and back over his trapezius muscles.

He’d never seen a body like this before...  It was fascinating. He was a little leaner than Daichi, but his muscles were well defined and solid, his torso was long, and made his eyes travel down to follow the lines that dipped beneath the hem of his cargo pants.

“Come on, we’re almost there,” he said, encouraging Kuroo to stay with him as long as he could. He leaned more of his weight onto the dresser and Daichi pulled sweats and a light tank top from the drawers, setting them on the floor as he sank to his knees to untie his boots, helping him toe them off. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, but he did. He knew Kuroo was vulnerable and it was simply a necessity to help him change and get to bed, but it felt… strange. This wasn’t someone he’d known all of his life, but a stranger whose privacy he was technically violating.

He undid the fastenings of his pants, tugging them down over chiseled, defined thighs, and placed a hand on one of his calves to lift his leg and pull it off, then the other. He heard a hiss escape Kuroo and he looked up sharply, meeting half lidded eyes and hesitated momentarily as their eyes locked, then pushed to keep going, trying to get it over with as soon as possible. He swept the sweats under him, hardly missing a beat to lift them and secure them around his hips.

Kuroo seemed uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure if it was vulnerability or the pain that was bothering him at the moment.

“Sorry, we’re almost done,” he said, figuring that would cover both bases. He stood, bringing the tank with him and scrunching it up in his hands to isolate the arm holes and hook them over his hands. He pushed the light fabric up his arms, hooked the neck hole over his bent head, and grabbed the hem of the tank to pull it the rest of the way down. It wasn’t quite as big as he thought it would be, the cut of the design not leaving much maneuverability, causing his fingers to brush down the skin of his abs and the cut of his hips above the sweat pants. His eyes followed.

Kuroo took a sharp breath above him and Daichi sprung back.

“S-sorry,” he said sheepishly. He quickly tried to play it off with humor. “Didn’t take you for the ticklish type!” He helped him over towards the bed.

“I’m not,” he huffed. Daichi didn’t really know how to perceive this comment. Did he mean he wasn’t normally and it shocked him as well? Or did he mean something different, like….? Kuroo’s grip on his arm tightened as they lowered him to the cot and the force of his fingers digging into his flesh stung.

There was something between a whimper and a grunt when Kuroo pushed himself backwards to lie down, and Daichi did his best to relieve him of as much weight as he could to guide him down.

“Fuck.” Kuroo said as he let out a breath he was holding. He’d never heard someone curse so much in his life, and it would have been funny if it was a different situation. “I’ll be feeling all this tomorrow.”

“As opposed to now?” Daichi was disbelieving. He didn’t think he could imagine him in any more pain, but to have Kuroo say it’d be _worse_? The guilt just kept growing.

“Ha. It’s not so bad. I’ve dealt with worse.” He was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t want Daichi to worry.  “Can you hand me my watch?” Kuroo continued, gesturing over towards the dresser. Daichi obliged, looking at the thing in his hands with something of wonder. It was a watch, for sure, but it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He had a feeling there was more to it than he could even comprehend, but that was another conversation for a different day.

Kuroo hooked it around his wrist and pressed a button, then another, and then flicked his finger over the face. He could see the screen changing with each flick, and then an erratic beeping was filling the air and Kuroo was grumbling angrily at it.

“Yeah, yeah.” The beeping silenced. He stayed quiet for a moment and all that could be heard between them now was Kuroo’s increasingly labored breathing. With a possible concussion and severe pain, he didn’t want the scientist using any more cognitive abilities more than he had to.

“Just rest for a bit. I’ll come check on you periodically and bring you some food and water.”

“I’m not helpless,” he said stubbornly. Daichi rolled his eyes a bit, moving to stand. God forbid the man let someone take care of him. If he was being honest, it was probable that no one had ever taken care of Kuroo, especially after his parents had passed. From what he’d gathered, he’d done nothing but work himself to the bone to be as self sufficient and strong as he could for everyone else.

It was probably not too farfetched to say he’d been training his whole life to potentially be alone for the majority of it.

“Daichi?”

“Hm?” He blinked over to Kuroo, a hand resting on the door frame as he peered over his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Daichi just stared, unsure what he should really say since he couldn’t really figure out why he was thanking him. Before he could even try to formulate a response, Kuroo’s eyes had fluttered closed completely and he looked to be at a troubled rest.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The days went by at a grueling pace. The pain felt never ending and his sleep was rough and restless. It made the days seem longer and if he had not witnessed the bruising and swelling dissipating himself, he could have sworn he might die from internal hemorrhaging.

He couldn’t put his duty aside, though, and kept his appointments with his patients. He recommended that Yachi participate in physical therapy since she’d been bedridden for so long. She was weak, grew breathless at small strain, but her family was patient and stood by her every step of the way. It was imperative that she was determined to keep moving, he’d said, and the persistence would allow her lungs to strengthen themselves once again. Her muscles had atrophied with the prolonged need for rest and the only thing that would aid her other than the antibiotics was slowly gaining strength.

“I will help her however I can,” Tora proclaimed with determination. A fire burned in his eyes like nothing Kuroo had ever seen, but it almost made him laugh at the same time. It was incredibly endearing and it made him respect Tora a lot, despite the somewhat humorous way it came off. Being able to spend more time in the common room and, frankly, not being able to leave from it, he witnesses Tanaka, Tora, and Noya attached at the hip when Yachi was resting. The three were like overprotective big brothers, defending her from a threat that didn’t even exist. They took shifts watching her or helping her, and made sure she had ample mobility through one of them for whatever she might need. The other girl, the one named Kiyoko, often had to shoo them away so she could breathe, and for some reason, they listened to every word she said with bated breath. It was all very adorable.

He was affixed to either an armchair or the couch, unable to move without a great deal of help, and requested to be put near the books so he could bide his time. He was anxious. He couldn’t stand being so sedimentary. He’d enjoyed observing the group, however, even if it made him feel a little awkward to watch them all out of the corners of his eyes. He was extremely surprised to see Kenma emerge from the shop with Hinata. It seemed Hinata was the only one who could get him to take a break from his tinkering and spend some time with other humans. Well, sort of. He usually brought something with him to work on. Hinata, for all his sunshine and energy, bless his heart, could not understand anything that Kenma was saying to him when he explained what he was working on, but it didn’t matter. He loved to listen to Kenma and see him brighten up when he cracked some sort of code. Their proximity was also something he noticed. He couldn’t help but smirk.

The oldest members of the group were Ukai and Saeko. From what he’d gathered, Saeko and Tanaka were the only members of the group who were actually related by blood, not that it really mattered in this day and age. They looked exactly alike, and their relationship was something to be envied. They were incredibly close, and they both had incredibly vibrant personalities. Saeko was very nice, coming to talk with him often, and her infectious laugh was oddly reassuring. She and Ukai were often found together, sometimes both having to rein in the rowdy boys harmlessly terrorizing everyone with their antics.

Daichi, Suga, and Asahi were their own tightly knit group. Being around the same age, he imagined it had something to do with a sense of responsibilities for the younger members. They all looked very close, and sometimes it actually made Kuroo feel… invasive. He still felt like an outcast most of the time, only having bonded strongly with Kenma and Daichi, and it felt as if the others were still incredibly apprehensive of him and his presence within their ranks. In the end, he really couldn’t blame them.

There were 14 people living underground here, and Kuroo had never seen a group this big outside of the capitol, the only group larger being the governmental hub. He was floored. He hadn’t thought it possible anymore. That was a lot of clashing energy and a whole lot of opinions. Daichi was incredible to have been leading such a large group, and from the looks of it, they all displayed extreme loyalty to him, and that in and of itself was a feat.

Eventually, Kenma recruited him for help and he couldn’t have been happier. He didn’t have to move much when using a screw driver and constructing small pieces for the respirators, and his mind was stimulated, unlike the first few days. Daichi wouldn’t let him do anything, read anything, or move hardly at all. It had driven him absolutely mad, but he’d never admit he slept through the majority of it. He’d been like a cat, sleeping 20 hours a day and being active for only 4.

The storm lasted longer than expected, and their supplies quickly dwindled, but Kuroo instructed the others to use the provisions and goods in his pack. It would provide for one individual for months, but it was not going to last long with the numbers they kept here.

“Daichi?” Suga asked, catching Daichi alone in the supply room.

“Yeah?” He said, not looking up as he stacked a few things by Kuroo’s pack. He was trying to get a count of food bars and get an estimate on how long they had before they needed a supply run. If it wasn’t for Kuroo, they’d be completely out.

“Everyone’s a little… restless,” Suga said. It was odd for him to beat around the bush, so he put a stack of bars down and looked up, giving him his full attention.

“What’s wrong?” He sat there in a comfortable crouch, using a hand on the giant pack to keep himself steady.

“It’s not anything wrong, per se, it’s more like…” He searched for the words. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Kuroo.”

Daichi furrowed his brows, standing slowly. Had he been spending that much time with him?

“We don’t even really see you anymore,” Suga said. He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Daichi with an intense stare. “It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s just… some of us feel kind of vulnerable with our leader sort of… unavailable.”

“And when you say ‘we’…?” Daichi narrowed his eyes, not in malice, but in confusion.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m just conveying some feelings that have been floating around. Things have changed a lot since he got here, that’s all.” Suga knelt and started counting the bars. Daichi slowly followed.

“I understand that,” he said slowly, eyes searching the floor for an answer. Things may have changed drastically because of him, but did no one realize he was the reason they were all able to live comfortably at the moment was because of him?

“I mean, there are supposed to be shifts, but you keep taking them from the others,” the silver haired man pointed out.

He was right. He had been dismissing Ukai and Tanaka quite often to take over their shifts. He didn’t mind taking care of Kuroo, in fact he found himself wanting to more and more.

“I…” he hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I just feel personally responsible for everything that has happened.”

Suga stared at him, but his look was completely unreadable and that made Daichi feel extremely uncomfortable. They were best friends, like twins who’d been separated at birth, able to communicate without speaking, and often filling in the holes in each other’s thoughts or words. To feel him so closed off was unsettling, to say the least. That tightness in his chest returned, making him feel breathless and stressed.

Finally, Suga sighed, continuing to count. “I know you do, but you have a whole group of people who are depending on you. They need their leader.”

Daichi stayed silent, began to count with him again and set the bars in little stacks of five. Suga didn’t have to say anymore. As soon as they’d put the last bar in its stack, he rose from the floor and left, but Daichi couldn’t watch him leave.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“I think I can move enough that I can set up to make medicine tomorrow.” Kuroo said that, but Daichi looked him up and down with a raised brow with a growing smirk. The scientist had been glued to an armchair for most of the day.

“Really, now? What happened? Did Kenma kick you out?”

“…Yes.”

Daichi laughed and sank onto the couch adjacent to him, leaning forward on his knees. “You don’t have to push yourself, you know.”

“I’m going crazy, Daichi. If I just sit here anymore, I’m going to lose my mind.” Daichi laughed again. The sound was so soothing these days and filled him with a fondness. He had a nice laugh.

“You’re being dramatic. We have time, and you need rest.” Kuroo watched him, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“Maybe. But,” he gave just a small pause. The delivery of his next thought was important. He didn’t want it to come off as depressing, but grateful. “We won’t always have this luxury. I’m pretty fortunate it happened somewhere I can rest and keep warm and not have to worry about being killed.” Daichi smiled at him, resting his chin on his palm.

“Well, we’re pretty fortunate, too.”

A moment of silence drifted between them, but it wasn’t awkward or strange, but rather content and it somehow felt like everything would be alright.

“I really do think I can start setting things up, though. I don’t want too much time to pass. Rust Sickness can strike when you least expect it. Yachi’s treatment is going well, but I am certain now that it will completely exhaust my supply, and I’d like to have more since it may require an extra bout towards the end.”

“Well, I can’t very well stop you, now can I?”

“Nope,” he said with satisfaction, carefully adjusting himself in the plush chair. “You may be the leader, but I don’t take orders from you.” Daichi went oddly quiet and Kuroo’s entire body perked up in alarm, something inside of him picking up the change in atmosphere and sending little sirens off in his head.

“I’m,” he started, not quite meeting eye contact, letting his eyes fall on the books directly across from him. “I’m not really a leader.”

“What?” Kuroo asked, shocked. Had he said something wrong? Why in the world would Daichi think that about himself?

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this leader business.”

“Daichi… what’s wrong? You’re a fantastic leader.” Kuroo didn’t like this. Seeing Daichi deflated made him oddly angry, like he wanted to shield him from whatever it was that was getting under his skin and remove any obstacles from his path. The other ran his hands through his short cropped hair, stress clear in his body language and in every sigh. He could see him mulling over whether to say more to Kuroo, and in that moment, Kuroo felt a kind of frustrated helplessness he hadn’t felt since he’d been at the capitol.

“I can’t seem to find the balance,” he finally said. Kuroo wasn’t sure he understood quite yet, at least not the specifics, but he had a general idea of what he could be talking about. “It’s… really…” He sounded flustered. “Not easy,” he finished, lamely. He sighed again. “The decisions I have to make are getting more and more difficult, people are becoming unhappy and fearful. There are so many people here now, and that’s… wonderful, but…” He didn’t finish.

“I know.” It was a simple statement, but just hearing that someone could understand what he meant was enough to give him immediate relief, albeit small. “I know it feels that way, but you’re doing a great job. I’ve met a lot of people on my journey, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Daichi finally looked at him. It was strange seeing those normally sure eyes clouded with doubt and trepidation. It was a side of him he didn’t know existed, and it made him want to scoot closer so he could be nearer. He wanted to comfort him, wanted to show him the way he appeared in his eyes. His body moved on its own, pushing himself to get up. Daichi looked immediately alarmed and stood to help him, but Kuroo shook his head and carefully sat next to him on the couch, hiding his wince carefully.

“I mean it. Being a leader isn’t supposed to be easy. That’s why there aren’t very many.” He caught his gaze and wouldn’t let it go. “People are vastly different. There’s no way you can make everyone happy, but that’s not really your job.” Daichi looked lost. “I’m serious. Your job is to keep them safe, keep them fed, give them shelter… but you are not responsible for their happiness. I know it sounds strange. Happiness is something that comes from perspective, in a lot of ways. Obviously, a lot of it comes from human validation, but I promise you it’s not your job to carry everyone emotionally. Not everyone is going to agree with you either. The larger the group, the more dynamic there is. ‘You could be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, but there is still going to be someone who hates peaches.’” *

Now Daichi looked _really_ confused.

“A ripe what?”

Kuroo sighed in exasperation, hanging his head dramatically. “You’re right. Not the best analogy when there haven’t been fruits on the planet in over a hundred years.” He pulled himself back up and looked at Daichi, who laughed back at him.

“I think I get what you’re trying to say.” He felt better talking to Kuroo. He didn’t know why he was so comfortable around him, but he realized it didn’t really matter. It was exactly what it was; nothing more, nothing less. Kuroo was right. “You know, I wouldn’t have thought something like that would come from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve trained every day of your life to save everyone else. Have you ever actually done something for yourself?”

The room filled with silence. It felt like his whole world came to slow halt as the words sank deep into his brain. Of course he’d done something for himself, right? His brow creased, a frown splitting his face as he searched the depths of his memories for something selfish he’d done for himself. The cross weave of the fabric beneath them was not giving him answers, his fingers running over it as if the motion would help clear a path in his mind. What about how he’d run off to the military unit to learn to fight? That was for him right? Well, maybe not. He’d done it to protect his loved ones, so… did that really count? What about taking an extra long shower that one time because his muscles were so stiff? He looked up to Daichi.

“I—”

“Daichi! Shift’s over.” Ukai said, jogging into the commons. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

“Great. Thanks for coming. If you could help me get Kuroo back to his room, he should rest.”

“I’m going to get bedsores from all this resting” he grumbled, standing by himself, though he wavered slightly with pain. He refused to look at Daichi, practically pouting as he side stepped his way out of the mess of couches and chairs. Ukai raised a brow and looked between them and Daichi only shrugged and shook his head.

-o-o-o-o-o-

He’d take it to his grave, but Daichi had been right. He hadn’t been able set up the lab the next day, and it still took a few more days of recovery to be able to walk around for extended times without getting exhausted.

The room in which he was setting up his lab was scrubbed down thoroughly, and would be scrubbed down again after being set up. He’d tried to enlist the help of Kenma, who hardly gave him the time of day and simply stated: “I’m a mechanist and an electrician. I’m not a biologist.”

Kuroo had grumbled his way back to the lab, where Daichi had pulled the equipment from Kuroo’s bag and set them where he’d been ask. With it difficult to still lift anything other than his arm—which still hurt immensely—he had to delegate the work to those who had offered to help. Suga, whose full name he’d learned was ‘Sugawara’ when he was stuck in the common room for days, was among the first to offer help, as usual. Daichi was a given, but now that Tanaka was so preoccupied with Yachi, it was only Ukai who had offered his help out of the others. He didn’t take it personally, of course. He still hadn’t been able to speak to Ennoshita, but it was on his list of top priorities. In all honesty, he was a bit nervous to face him after he’d shot him in the leg. Was it too late to apologize after a few weeks had already passed?

“So… how does this work exactly?” Ukai asked, looking at the equipment with a dissecting eye.

Oh boy, was that a complicated question. He assumed he was talking about the general practice, and not the equipment itself. How could he generalize it?

"Well… the production of antibiotics usually comes from three ways: natural fermentation, semi-synthetic, and completely synthetic.” It’d be a long time since he’d spoken science, he was getting a little fired up. “Actually, most of the antibiotics we've had in history were actually discovered by accident because they are naturally occurring, and it's really quite amazing. I mean, can you imagine? How does someone think ‘hmm, I’m going to put this moldy bread on a cut?’” He shook his head laughing at some strange sense of humor that no one else shared. But Daichi was enthralled. The passion in his voice, the fondness on his face as he spoke about science was captivating. Deep down, this guy was just a nerd that loved what he did, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His eyes widened at his own thought. What?

“A scientist named Alexander Flemming, for example," Kuroo continued, jerking him from his thoughts. He was testing his microscope, turning a knob on the side and looking through the tubes that created the eyepieces that led to the lenses. “This idiot left a culture uncovered before he left on holiday and when he came back—” He stopped when he lifted his head. While he had been digressing into historic chemistry, everyone was staring at him like he had two heads. "Oops. Sorry," he said, lowering his head in embarrassment and clearing his throat to continue his explanation. He made a few adjustments that were completely unnecessary, and he thanked his lucky stars that no one knew what he was doing. "Anyways... antibacterials are often produced from bacteria, itself. Fermentation is not a difficult process, so it's actually quite easy to make and stems directly from the anaerobic bacteria that causes Rust Sickness via chemical precipitation for the purification process. And then it's a crystalline product easy to ingest and voila."

They still had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t want to get into it anymore, especially since he’d made an ass out of himself already by blabbering on about things they clearly had no interest in. He peaked up at Daichi who smiled warmly at him. He calmed, smiling back and his eyes stuck to him a bit too long, taking in his sharp jaw line that seemed to soften with his kind smile.

“Kuroo?”

“Yes!” He said, turning on his heel to look at Ukai.

“We’re all finished with setting up the equipment, so we’ll leave the technical stuff to you. We’ll scrub up everything on the way out.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it. And don’t forget to let everyone know not to come into this room. Please. I beg you.” He chuckled, the requests coming out as a light-hearted plead, but they all knew the severity of the implications. No one wanted to hinder the process, so he knew he didn’t have to say much on it.

He set about starting the cultures.

“Daichi,” Suga said at the door. He’d caught him lingering. He pursed his lips and bid Kuroo farewell.

“Call us if you need anything!”

-o-o-o-o-o-

How long could he dawdle here? Against his will, he had begun to feel for this family as if they were his own, and all efforts to keep his emotions at bay were failing. They were good people. They were genuine, hard working, and he had gained their trust, but he had a mission and he was beginning to find it harder and harder to make choices without putting the family’s needs within them.

He was trying to find a balance, just like Daichi. It wasn’t as if he could not do both, but one could not prioritize two things without both of the two suffering because of the other. He had given them his supplies without much thought as to how he would feed himself when he had to leave this place, assuming he would have to since most of his efforts for discovery of plant life had gone unrewarded. It was troublesome that he’d made such a drastic decision, and it was then he realized he was compromised.

Had he been on the outside as an officer, he would have stripped himself of the mission and given its importance to someone else.

The tests of the environment, though proving his theories, still left him quizzical and raised more questions than they gave answers.

His watch wasn’t broken, that was for sure. The environment was indeed saturated with oxygen unlike anywhere he’d seen before, but he could not figure out how. He’d chalked it up to natural filtration through the moist soil that surrounded them, but it still didn’t quite add up. He had not found any significance in the soil, though it was more oxygenated than was normal for anywhere else, but still held contaminants and no known plant life would be able to grow in it. He’d practically pulled his hair out, isolating himself and immersing himself in his experiments.

There was nothing here, even if he wished there to be. That meant he needed to leave. He needed to continue canvassing the lands to find what his comrade had died for: the place where the Earth could be reborn.

His journey had been delayed almost a month now, and though the time frame of the mission had prepared for setbacks, his time constraints were growing thinner.

He sat now in his room, staring down at the piece of paper in his hands that had grown wrinkled and flimsy with repeated use. He had held it so many times, just like this, staring at the markings and weighing his options in his mind over and over until he was mad with frustration.

It must have been a fluke, this oxygenated environment. There was no more data he could extract with his tools, and that left him no reason to stay in accordance to his mission.

But he didn’t want to leave.

So now he sat again with map in hand, but stared not at the circle in which he currently lie, but the black box to the west that lie about forty miles from where he was.

The outpost.

The outpost was his point of contact back to the capitol. It housed supplies, stood unworn by the elements due to its reinforcement and was impossible to breach without military clearance. Originally, his plan was to take up residence in the outpost after the discovery of… whatever it was he was supposed to find, and report back to headquarters to await new orders. However, he’d found nothing yet, and the window in which he was to report back was coming dangerously close. If they did not hear from him, he didn’t actually know what they would do.

It wasn’t a risk they could really take. He couldn’t fail, and by not divulging a backup plan to Kuroo, the pressure for him to succeed was tenfold. It was better this way.

He would have to go to the outpost, no matter what, even if it was to simply say he hadn’t found anything yet. On the plus side, there could be a plethora of supplies there that he could share with…

He stopped himself. There it was again. He was ready to share whatever he had with these people and it was very explicit in his orders that he was to think of others last and himself first. They had humored him with allowing him to create as much medicine as he could so he could dish some out on his travels. They honestly didn’t care about that, but he did. As much as the general and he had disagreed on nuances of his mission, he was still obligated to do as he was ordered. He understood the line he needed to draw and it was slowly creeping up on him that he needed to revert back to his soldier mentality and quit playing house with these people.

He needed to abandon the attachment he was feeling for them...

Or, more specifically, the attachment he was feeling to Daichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The quote is from Dita Von Teese.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I apologize for how long it took to get out. It was a really difficult chapter to write. I hope you enjoyed it and I am looking forward to all the comments and speculation!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get tense as the stakes get higher and higher, but now it's a matter of life and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Ash, (yikesitsash, and @yikescaninot) for all your help! Couldn't have done it without you, and I thank you for your valuable time and energy!!
> 
> Please enjoy.

Daichi sipped at a cup of water, skimming through a book, distracted. He must have read the same line a dozen times without realizing he hadn’t really absorbed it thematically. Now, he wasn’t even pretending that he could focus on it, staring blankly at the wooden table beneath the cover, trailing the grain with his eyes around each knot that swirled, each splinter that had caught and freed itself with every altercation that had taken place on its surface. The rich, dark browns blended flawlessly into lighter golden ones, a mesmerizing gradient he normally wouldn’t notice.

“What are you staring at?”

Even with the familiar voice, he couldn’t take his eyes off the tabletop at first. He lazily disengaged and looked up to a worried set of eyes topped with thick silver eyebrows.

“Nothing. Just zoning out.” His energy levels had been steadily decreasing. Each day seemed like more of a struggle as his muscles weakened and his breath felt shorter. He knew it was incremental, that no one else had noticed it other than that he was a bit more exhausted, as if he’d been pushing himself too hard.

“You seem more tired than usual.” Suga sat beside him at the table.

It was early morning, and most of their companions were not even awake yet. It was at this time that the interior was eerily quiet. There was something about silence that was damning and absolute, like a dark omen none of them wanted to acknowledge.

“I just can’t seem to sleep these days,” he lied. He pushed back from the table slowly, leaning into the backrest of the chair and looking down at his lap as if the folds of his sweat pants were suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Well, I hate to say it, but it’s starting to show. You look a little pale.” Suga slanted into the table and propped his elbow onto the top of it, setting his chin in his hand. “I know you feel like the weight of these lives rest on your shoulders, but we’re all supposed to be in this together.”

“I know,” he replied. He didn’t want to have this conversation again. He was exhausted. At the same time, he didn’t want to be alone. Kuroo, who would normally be a night owl with him, was in his makeshift lab creating antibiotics, or… other science-based things, perhaps. Whatever it was, he didn’t dare disturb him.

“Don’t you think it’s time to tell him?” Daichi asked, slumping back over the table and putting his face into his hands, rubbing the tired from his cheeks and eyes. He sighed and folded his hands together, then turned to look at Suga and rested his cheek on the back of his hands. Suga watched him in return.

“I don’t know, Daichi… Something tells me we shouldn’t.” Suga scratched his arm absently, frowning a bit. “I know what he said, but… this is really big. If we tell him, it could change everything.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that the point? You said the same thing when he first got here.” Suga gnawed on his lip in trepidation and continued to watch Daichi. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, so he took a breath and huffed.

“I know. I can’t explain it. I just have this bad feeling.”

His companion sighed deeply, sinking down to completely rest on the table with his top half, staring at the wall past bright, silver hair. Here they were, between a rock and a hard place. He wouldn’t make an executive decision about something so important without the consent of his comrades.

“What did Ukai say?”

“He didn’t have an issue with it,” Suga said honestly, casting his gaze downward to pick at the wood chipping from the grain. He offered no more, and no less.

Nothing was said for a while, Daichi exhausted and staring at the wall in deep thought, and Suga watching him with concern.

“I don’t think we really have a choice,” Daichi said, finally sitting back up. “This doesn’t just concern us, anymore. With his help, we can...” he trailed off, having had this conversation with Suga many times over.

“…Alright. I’ll talk with everyone,” he said in surrender. With his eyes downcast, he changed the subject. Daichi looked far too tired to be talking about this. “How is his progress on making antibiotics?”

“Well, I think. He hasn’t had any issues yet that I know of.”

“Yachi is doing really well, too.” He beamed at Daichi, and Daichi smiled back.

“That’s good. I’m relieved.”

“Tora and Tanaka haven’t left her side,” he chuckled. “Kuroo said he’d meet with her today for an estimate for her full recovery.”

Daichi smiled, but in the back of his mind, his fear was growing. His own Rust Sickness was spreading down his left hip and thigh, and he could feel his lungs tightening. He wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer, especially if he began to cough. He was dreading the admission of his illness, but he didn’t want to lie anymore.

He just wanted the others to be safe before he asked for any medication for himself. But time was running out.

He’d seen Rust Sickness at its worst, necrosis penetrating deep tissue and causing discolored fissures in the skin that wept a disgusting liquid and it was the worst thing he’d ever smelled. He knew that once the rash had become chapped and tender, that necrosis wasn’t far behind.

And this is where he was in the process. Even the brush of clothing against the marred skin was becoming painful. He was certain that the anger he’d face from his comrades was not going to be slight, but he had prepared himself for it. He didn’t care. He’d rather sacrifice himself to save his family. He couldn’t lose them.

He had to tell Kuroo. There was no getting around it, now. But it wasn’t just because he needed help, but that he couldn’t lie to him anymore. The guilt that came from lying to Kuroo was far more painful than lying to anyone else.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Good god, child. Turn on a lamp or something,” Kuroo said, stepping into Kenma’s shop. The only light was in front of his face, shining down upon the table on which he worked, and Hinata was passed out on a chair in the most peculiar position. How in the world could this kid sleep like that? “Do you ever leave this place?”

He did not receive an answer, making him frown and fix the back of Kenma’s head with a half-hearted glare. He quietly stepped to the dangling string that was attached to the lights on the ceiling. He yanked on it and light flickered erratically before it finally reached equilibrium and stayed lit.

Kenma ducked slightly, raising a hand to shield his eyes and sent Kuroo a look of irritation.

The troublesome mite was back.

Hinata groaned and woke, blinking furiously against the sudden onslaught of illumination that filled the room. From the looks of it, he’d been up all night and could still use a good slumber.

“I’m kicking you out. You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Kenma said, putting his tools down and turning to face Kuroo.

“Really?” Kuroo teased. “You’re so pale from a lack of sunlight, I thought I was looking at a vampire.”

Kenma rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I offend you? Did I get it wrong? Are you a ghost?”

“You’re so dramatic,” Kenma drawled, moving from his seat and tucking more tools away. Hinata wiggled in his seat, watching Kenma closely, excitement gleaming in his gaze. Ah, the orange haired mess knew what was happening.

Kenma was listening. He’d packed up his things and tucked them into drawers because he was going to get some rest. Hinata’s eyes were wide and a smile practically split his face in half, his face expressing his gratitude to Kuroo a million times over.

He crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk, following Kenma and Hinata out of the shop to ensure there’d be no sneaking back in. They turned the corner towards the bedrooms, but not before Kuroo caught Hinata lacing their fingers together to tug him along.

He chuckled to himself. He’d grown so fond of Kenma and as a result became very protective of him. The moments they’d spent in the shop together felt so natural, and working on the small projects had relaxed him a great deal. With Kenma, he didn’t feel like he had to hide his fascination and passion for science and he could exclaim in excitement when something had clicked in his mind. Daichi had been right. He was learning more from Kenma than he was teaching. It was as if two great minds had locked together like puzzle pieces, filling the voids in each other’s intellect like they’d been destined to meet.

The thought made him smile, and then frown. Did he enjoy digging his own grave? He’d never gotten attached to a single person outside the capitol, even when he’d been forced to spend a week with a family after a sprained ankle. A week was a long time among individuals without creating some sort of bond. It had been so uncomfortable, in fact, that he had hardly slept the entire week and couldn’t wait for the day he could leave and be on his own again. There was nothing particularly wrong with them, and they had been beyond kind and welcoming, but he had no difficulties giving them the cold shoulder when they had begged him to stay. He’d been civil of course, but there was never even the slightest temptation to remain.

And that’s why this felt so foreign to him. Here, every fiber of his being was challenged at every possible moment, each more difficult than the last to bury beneath the surface of his psychological training.

He leaned against the wall and sighed, lifting a hand to his face and closing his eyes. Why did it have to be now? Why… _him_?

All his years of training had been dismantled.

“You managed to get Kenma to sleep?”

He jerked away from the wall and looked at Daichi. Apparently his years of tactical training were failing him, too. He hadn’t heard Daichi at all.

He needed to leave this place as soon as possible.

“He just needed a little push.” Kuroo grinned. “You’re next. I know you’ve been up all night.”

“The same goes for you,” Daichi said defiantly, putting a hand on his hip. Kuroo’s eyes glinted with something, but he thought he might be imagining it. It looked like… admiration. His stomach clenched uncontrollably in the strangest way, making his breath hitch slightly.

“I must inform you, you’re worse than Kenma.”

“I take exception to that.”

It was this warm feeling in his chest, like it was expanding with something deep inside of him. It was like his programming was short circuiting and everything just went blank except _this feeling_. It always happened with Daichi. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew exactly what it was, and it scared him. It scared him beyond anything he’d ever faced.

His senses were always heightened around him. Things felt different, looked different, seemed brighter and strong, and he felt _happy_. That was the most alarming part of it all. Happiness had always been secondary and had never been something that he really factored into the decisions he had to make, so that it was breaking through the cracks of his steely resolve was not only alarming, but detrimental for the long term.

“Daichi,” he started. He was going to go for it. He had to tell him it was time for him to leave. The production of the antibiotics was going extremely well, and soon he’d be able to press them into a pill, so there was no longer any reason for him to stay… This was it. Before it was too late. “It’s time, I—”

“Wait,” Daichi said, looking around the corner for anyone that may be listening. “Come with me.” He pulled Kuroo into Kenma’s shop and quietly shut the door behind them. He turned, pulled the chain to light the room, and fixed the scientist with a carefully neutral face. “I have to tell you something.”

Kuroo frowned deeply at the seriousness of his tone and his tense body language. Whatever it was, it must have been bad, and no ‘carefully neutral’ face could hide that. He folded his arms over his chest, unconsciously trying to protect himself from whatever could be coming.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” Daichi added, his mask cracking. Kuroo’s brow leapt up, and now he was feeling far more apprehensive. Something was definitely wrong. When Kuroo didn’t answer him immediately, Daichi suddenly wanted to back out of the situation. Kuroo would be livid, wouldn’t he?

“Well, I can’t promise anything,” Kuroo said, frowning deeper. “Seems pretty serious. Whenever someone says ‘please don’t be angry with me,’ whatever comes after is _usually_ enraging.”

Okay, that was fair. He’d been preparing himself for the repercussions since his decision to keep it from everyone, so it was now or never.

“Kuroo… I’m,” he hesitated. Why couldn’t he force it out? They were easy words to say, so why wouldn’t they leave his throat? Tears pricked uncomfortably at his eyes, the frustration and fear bubbling over the surface. He took a small breath. He reached down and pulled his shirt slowly up and over his head.

He wasn’t prepared for the way Kuroo’s face changed. His furrowed brows gave way to horror, but his heart seized in his chest when it melted into the most sorrowful expression he’d ever seen. He was prepared for anger, but he was not prepared for grief. Kuroo’s arms fell from his chest slowly as his eyes darted along his flesh and registered what he was seeing.

“Daichi, no,” he whispered. His breath hitched with shock and he took a step forward. “No.” He said again. “No, no.” His voice cracked and he pushed forward, reaching for Daichi.

Watching the agony, hearing it in his voice, somehow made everything that much more real. This response… it wasn’t what he’d expected, and the anguish was eating at him faster than the Rust Sickness was.

Kuroo gripped his arms, looking down into his eyes. The grasp was painful, but it was nothing compared to seeing the tears in Kuroo’s eyes and the distress that only seemed to get worse and worse.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Instead of angry shout, it was an emotional whisper. “Why would you let it get this bad?” Instead of shoving him away, he was pulling him closer. “I could have—” He stopped as he pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. Of course Daichi didn’t tell him. He knew the kind of man Daichi was at this point, and the only likely explanation was that he wouldn’t put himself before his family.

It was the exact opposite of how Kuroo was supposed to live his life, but it was the way his heart had always wanted to. He clenched his jaw, fighting the tears he couldn’t understand, and the frustration that paralyzed him.

Not again.

“Kuroo…” Daichi was at a loss, feeling every pulse in his veins, every iota of pain that throbbed with it, and it was not because of the Rust Sickness, but seeing Kuroo in so much agony over him.

“You idiot,” he said, pulling away to look at his face again. Why? Why did it have to be this way? “We could have split the medicine or something, why couldn’t you have just told me?”

“You know as well as I do that that wouldn’t have worked.”

He was absolutely right. If he had split the medicine between them all, there was an exponential chance that one of the patients could develop a resistance to the antibiotics, or that it wouldn’t get rid of the infection completely and it would come right back much worse. Depending on where the infection was, the lungs for instance, it could continue to eat holes in the muscles and membranes and, despite some recovery, would still cause major damage beyond repair.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?” Kuroo said, the realization sudden and jarring. “No one even knows you’re sick.” Now his mind was running through every sign he missed: His pale skin, his shortness of breath, however minor, how tired he’d been, and the way Daichi always kept his skin covered. He was horrified that he hadn’t noticed, but he had trusted him to say something if it were to come up. He’d trusted that he wouldn’t be so _stupid_ as to hide something so terrible! He sighed softly. He hadn’t let go of Daichi, as if doing so would mean that he was letting him go forever, but his grip loosened slowly. “The medication is almost ready, but I need to do a comprehensive exam on you. You don’t understand how bad it can be…”

“Yes, I do.”

“ _No_ , you don’t.”

Daichi went silent, the severity of his words shocking him. Finally, the anger was coming out, but it wasn’t at the Rust Sickness on his skin, or even at him for hiding it, but directed at his inability to understand just how horrifying the disease really was.

“You have no idea how bad it can be,” he repeated, finally stepping away from Daichi, and the loss of his hands on his body left him feeling icy and alone. “This thing will rot you from the inside out. It can eat at your brain and nervous system, you _stupid_ …” he trailed off, gritting his teeth against another wave of emotion that threatened to send tears down his cheeks.

“Kuroo, I’m sorry.”

“We could have figured something out,” he said, the desperation showing in his voice. “The others weren’t that sick, we could have…”

“Kuroo, no. Stop thinking like that.” Denial was a strong construct, and that Kuroo would say the others weren’t that sick when he knew how bad Yachi was, was something that gave him pause. He hadn’t reacted like this with any of the others.

“But it’s you, Daichi. Why does it have to be you?”

This was something he hadn’t been expecting either. He wasn’t quite sure that he knew what it meant, and he was afraid of the answer. He searched Kuroo’s face, but all he found were more questions. He watched the emotions slowly drain from his face, and the pit of his stomach dropped as he realized that Kuroo was putting himself into soldier mode and shutting down. A great silence fanned out between them like a ripple. He reached forward, his fingers brushing the skin of his arms, but Kuroo slid out of his grasp carefully.

“I will examine you in the medical bay. I need to get back to the lab and start more cultures.”

“Kuroo…” Why couldn’t he think of anything to say other than his name? He didn’t know how to make this better, or why it hurt so much to be treated this way.

“As soon as possible, Daichi. Get your ass to that medical bay,” he snapped, sending him a look that chilled him to the core.

But Daichi could see the pain behind it. There was something going around in Kuroo’s mind that he couldn’t quite decipher, yet, but it was starting to become clearer with every conversation, so his face softened and he nodded.

He’d let him cool down, for now.

He watched Kuroo’s back disappear out the door and, for a moment, he could do nothing but clench his shirt tightly in his hands, knuckles white from the pressure. He looked down at it and slowly pulled it back on, then dragged his feet from the cement, one foot in front of the other, and reached up on his way out to turn off the lights.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kuroo slid into the medical bay quietly, tools in tow and he set the heap on the counter. Daichi watched him, but Kuroo was already in a doctor state, just like when he’d been examining the others, and refused to look at him.

Kuroo already knew just from the reveal that it was bad. His skin told him almost everything he needed to know, and now it was a matter of examining his lungs and eyes to see how far it had metastasized. A few more days, and he’d need to create lacerations to drain the fluid that should be underneath by now.

He cleaned his tools and motioned for Daichi to come sit on top of the table. He pulled on his mask, grabbed his flashlight and stethoscope, and pulled on his gloves.

Daichi carefully removed his clothing, leaving himself in just his underwear, and sat as requested. He watched Kuroo pull himself onto a rolling stool, his eyes already traveling over the parts of Daichi that hadn’t been discovered: His hip and the outside of his thigh, to be exact. Kuroo could tell where it had started, the course of its growth, and approximately how long he’d had it. Although, now that he thought about it, he was actually unsure considering the other patients who had progressed so slowly.

His eyes wandered over Kuroo’s form. He was adorned in the same clothes as the day he’d met him: A tight black shirt that hugged him in all the right places, and the slightly baggy, tan cargo pants stuffed into sleek, black boots. His spiking hair shadowed one eye, mask covering his nose and mouth, giving him the same aura of mysteriousness as the moment he’d met him on the surface.

Only he hadn’t realized then just how beautiful he was.

Kuroo pressed a stethoscope to his back, asking him to breathe, but he was so close that all he could really take in was his scent. He wanted to memorize it, bottle it up and keep it close to him. The only other time he’d been able to get this close was when Kuroo had been incapacitated with injury. He’d noticed how much he’d liked it then, but now it was so much worse.

The thought only sent a pang of hurt and guilt through him. Of all the people in the world, he’d fallen for someone who was going to leave. Had he no control? Had he no shame? There was no denying it now. He’d tried. He’d spent nights in his room trying to convince himself that it was just a fleeting feeling, that it was just circumstantial, that, if anything, it was like crushing on a celebrity or superhero. It all amounted to nothing. But he’d resolved to keep it to himself, to bury it with him in his grave.

Until he had seen the pain in Kuroo’s eyes.

“Daichi?”

“Huh?” He asked, pulling himself from his trance. Those beautiful eyes were fixed on him, concerned.

“I said I’m going to flash the light in your eyes, now.”

“Ah. Right. Okay.”

“Look at my finger here,” he said, flashing the light into his eyes. “And here,” he said, moving to the next.

Kuroo pursed his lips.

“One more time. Here, and follow my finger,” he said, then switched sides. “Same, here.” He paused and swallowed hard.

He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell if it had spread to his brain. His heart sped up in a panic. It was not uncommon to have mild symptoms without complication, but this was too close to home. This was Daichi, and he couldn’t take the risk.

“Kuroo?”

He focused, looking at Daichi and taking a breath.

“Well, it’s definitely in your lungs. I’m actually surprised you’re not coughing yet.” He tucked the flashlight away. “I’m going to press on your lesions, and I already know that you’re aware it’s going to hurt.” He sent him a chastising glare, and then pulled his hands up to Daichi’s abdomen.

Even if it was covered in rash, his body was still beautiful. How foolish these thoughts were, and yet now that Daichi’s mortality was flashing in front of Kuroo’s eyes, the suppression of his emotions was impossible. He was truly the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

He growled at himself in frustration, inwardly telling his mind to shut up.

“Kuroo?”

“I’ll be honest,” he said, avoiding the question. “I can’t tell if it’s in your brain.” He pushed at the largest, darkest section and Daichi hissed. Just as he thought. “It’s bad,” he said simply, but it was neither careless nor unfeeling. Quite the opposite. “Daichi, I know I’ve mentioned this but… symptoms all manifest differently in different hosts. If I had to compare you with how I found Yachi…” He hesitated again upon seeing Daichi’s face wrinkle with worry. Perhaps he should not have let those words leave his lips, but it was too late now. “I would say that you are worse in some ways, better than others, but about equally progressed.”

The revelation was shocking. He knew it was different for everyone, but this was beyond his expectations.

“While Yachi’s mostly clustered in her lungs, yours has infected subcutaneously and within your muscles. They will atrophy soon. We need to start you on treatment immediately.”

“But—”

“No, Daichi. We’re taking some from Yachi and we’re starting you on them, now.”

“I refuse.”

“You can’t.”

“Kuroo, I’m not going to let you take medicine from Yachi. She—”

“You don’t get a say in the matter.” Kuroo silenced him with a nasty sneer, eyes practically glowing with anger, but it was only to cover the waver in his voice. “In two to three days, I will have more medication.”

“There are only three days left of Yachi’s treatment, and you said she would need even more.”

“Damn it, Daichi.” He stood abruptly, ripping his mask from his face as he stomped to the sink and tossed it into the trash. He threw his gloves into the sink, and chucked his flashlight to the side, doing away with his stethoscope next.

“It’s too risky,” Daichi said. He had hopped down from the table and was pulling his clothes on, avoiding Kuroo’s gaze.

“It’s a risk we have to take.” He turned back to him. “If we don’t treat you now, you’re done for.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

“You’re right; I’m only going by my years of medical knowledge and experience. I definitely don’t know what I’m talking about.” His sarcasm was sinister, not like the light hearted banter he’d experienced until now, and it was like an arrow through his chest.

“You said things progress much slower here, so that has to be worth something.”

“Daichi, I don’t know how, and it still affects everyone differently. The later the stage, the faster it progresses. There will come a time when whatever is here slowing it down will no longer help, and I don’t know when that is. We need to treat you. Now.”

“I refuse.”

“Daichi, please.” Kuroo’s voice suddenly broke and he closed the distance between them, lifting his hand to cup his jaw. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Daichi’s eyes went impossibly wide as they locked gazes. The pleading and pain was a tempest raging in his eyes. The palm pressed to his face was warm and comforting, intoxicating with a simple touch that carried so much weight. His heart was pounding, and every inch of his body was alight with awareness. There was nothing between them momentarily but their breathing as they searched each other’s eyes.

“You know I can’t agree to it,” he whispered shakily. It betrayed that he wanted to give in to Kuroo, that he wanted to save himself too, but he just couldn’t at the expense of someone else.

He saw his words crush him, as if all of the vulnerabilities he’d been hiding since leaving the capitol were surfacing with the destruction of the emotional wall that had held them back.

“Daichi... I—”

“What’s happening right now?” A voice came through the doorway.

They pulled apart, Daichi looking distressed, and Kuroo looking angry.

Both were not an ideal reaction to what Suga and Tanaka were seeing.

“Uh, Daichi? Can we talk?” Suga asked, one brow peaked. Daichi immediately moved to them, taking them out of the medical bay quickly lest they see the used examination tools and piece things together. Whatever they were thinking was better than them knowing the truth.

Once they were out of ear and eyeshot, Daichi addressed them.

“What the hell was that about?” Tanaka asked, clearly concerned.

“We got into an argument.” It wasn’t a lie, but he was sure it looked a lot more complicated than that.

Suga knew better. He could see it on his face and in his eyes as he pursed his lips.

“Whatever,” Suga said, changing the topic. “We have something more important to talk about.” Daichi said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “After talking with everyone, we’ve agreed that we should finally tell Kuroo.”

Daichi perked slightly, shocked at the sudden decision. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought that you—”

“That’s still true, but I realize that it’s not really my call. Or yours. Or anyone’s, for that matter. It’s just about doing what’s right.”

Daichi’s eyes searched deep silver momentarily before he reached forward and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Okay, then,” he said, sending a look to Tanaka as well. “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”

Admittedly, while this was what he had wanted from the beginning, it was also a way to distract Kuroo from their current situation, and the timing was advantageous to his needs.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Where are we going?” Kuroo asked, eyeing them skeptically as Daichi herded him to follow Tanaka and Suga down a hall to a door he’d never been allowed to enter. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried at this point, considering the implications of what had happened shortly before, but there were more important things he needed to be dealing with. “I really don’t have time for this right now,” he said, rolling out of Daichi’s grasp. “I need to go back to the lab.”

“Just trust us,” Suga said, folding his arms over his chest. There was honestly no easy way to tell him, so it was better to just throw him in there. Well, that's what he had argued, at least.

“We need to show you something.”

“We’ve wanted to since you came,” Tanaka said, grabbing the handle to the door. “But we had to make sure you were legit.”

Legit? Kuroo frowned.

Tanaka pulled the door open.

Before his brain could really process what he was seeing, it could only tell him he was seeing the color green.

The heat is what hit him next, not unbearable, but a stark contrast to the room temperature of the base. The sound of water running tickled his ears, made his eyes dart from side to side. Then, as warm air filled his lungs, his mind seemed to clear.

Beams of light diffused onto shelves of green, illuminating all manner of different shades and shapes on which they colored. His eyes raked over the long fronds of ferns and tracheophytes, trailed down the runners and blades of chlorophytums, and eventually the tiny sprouts barely peeking from soil. The ecosystem of the plantae was vivid with ivies stretching from the floor and crawling up the walls to the ceiling. There were nettles uncurling from one corner of the room, and moss beginning to grow on the floor by the small pools of water that had collected over time. It was like the green room at the capitol, but natural and far more dense.

His mind was going to explode. It was a veritable Eden, and he did a double take as he spotted a tiny, bushy, flowering plant happily perched upon a mound of dirt that tapered from the right wall.

The group had created small boxes, like containing walls, for separate sprouting plants that seemed herbaceous in nature and touted the question of the possibility of food growing underneath.

Impossible. This would have taken decades to form.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, both joy and bewilderment battling within him to become the dominant emotion. And confusion.

This explained everything, but why had they waited so long to show him? Hadn’t he demonstrated his loyalty, his usefulness, and explained to them the nature of his mission? It was not just for him, but for all of them. The frustration was beyond enraging, but he would deal with that later.

All he wanted to do was touch the plants and soil, examine what species had survived here, and breathe in as much air as he could. He wanted to grab the seeds from his pack and immediately start planting food. He yanked his head around, looking at Suga, Daichi, and Tanaka incredulously. Ukai and Saeko had joined them, one leaning against the door frame, the latter giving him a grin and a thumb up. He had so many questions, but he inferred that they, themselves, probably didn’t know the answers to them.

“This…” Kuroo started, body pulling him deeper into the green room. “This is a tassel fern. They died out 200 years ago.” The wall was covered in them, creating an elegant, fluffy green waterfall that he subconsciously reached to bury his hands into. “Wait…” He said, narrowing his eyes as he pulled a frond closer to his face, leaning to meet it halfway. “This is not a Polystichum polyblepharum,” he said with a frown.

The others looked at each other quizzically. Kuroo was venturing into a territory of scientific terms that sounded like a completely different language.

“No, this is…” he paused, eyes searching each pinna and pinnule, stroking them between his fingers. “This is not like any vascular fern I’ve ever seen.”

He was obviously mumbling to himself now, but Daichi’s ears perked as he listened intently. They knew nothing of plant life and diversity and what it had been, but if Kuroo was shocked, Daichi was, too.

“It’s _like_ a common Polystichum polyblepharum, but it’s… a different subspecies?” He looked at the wall of ferns, eyes darting between the blades. “Impossible.” The more he looked, the more he began to realize that all of these plants were unidentified species, however similar to the ones flipping through his mind like pages in a textbook. These plants had possibly… evolved?

“Kuroo?” Ukai asked, coming forward. “How much of your studies covered plant life?”

“Almost all of it. I know each class, order, family, genus, and species of all known botanical, fungal, and zoological taxonomies. Well, pre-catastrophic era norm.  I know far less about subspecies the farther back in history you go.”

They stared at him. Though they didn’t particularly know exactly what that entailed, they knew there was an incredibly numerous count of species in both categories that had graced the earth before the fall.

“I find that hard to believe,” Ukai said sheepishly. He didn’t want to doubt him, but it was an overwhelming amount of information for one person to know.

“If you think that’s unbelievable, you should meet Akaashi. He knows the kingdoms of Archaebacteria, Eubacteria, Protista, and Fungal. I pale in comparison,” he laughed, but it sounded a little stressed.

“Those… aren’t… in the umbrellas you know?” Suga asked. He didn’t really know what each of the categories entailed, but he did understand the words “bacteria” and “fungal,” so he had a general idea.

“Oh, god, no. Please don’t rub it in.”

Daichi chuckled, and Suga shot him a look of confusion. He didn’t understand their humor.

“But,” he continued, pulling his eyes back to the scientist. “You know so much about Rust Sickness. I thought you were a doctor?”

Kuroo laughed. Perhaps the oxygen was going to his head again, because it was an ugly cackle that he hadn’t laughed in a very long time.

Daichi hid a smile behind his hand. What in the world kind of crazy laugh was that? And why was it so endearing despite its ear piercing quality?

“No, I’m not a doctor.”

The others paled. He could see the panic on their faces, as if they felt betrayed. It only made him want to laugh harder.

“At least,” he added, “not in the technical sense. The term ‘doctor’ came from a type of degree that used to subsist, but that kind of system doesn’t exist anymore. I’m a bit of a specialist, which means I actually know very little about the rest of the medical world, but a lot about a few things. Does that make sense?”

They seemed to feel a little better. Why was he rambling about things that made him seem less qualified than he was? _Insert foot in mouth, Kuroo._

He caught Daichi snickering behind his hand, one arm crossed over his chest, and the other propped up by it and covering the lower half of his face. The smile reached his eyes and made them glint with mirth, and he was so, so handsome. This man… He was something else. He shook his head to clear his mind.

“That is beside the point,” he said. “This is incredible. I need to study this immediately. Please.” The innocent pleading in his eyes was a far cry from the warrior Daichi had first met. It was as if the soldier on the surface was a figment of his imagination.

He knew now, who Kuroo truly was.

And he loved him.

He loved him so much it physically hurt. Now that he truly admitted it to himself, it was as if he could not stop the flood.

If he knew what was good for him, he’d walk away, but it was far too late for that.

It was too late for both of them.

They stood at opposite ends of the room, and it could not more accurately reflect their current situation in relation to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it! I hope it gave you as many feels as it gave me. Thank you for your support!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was this what being selfish felt like? No wonder everyone was so self-serving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter dedicated to Finnthebunneh for such kind words and encouragement when I was feeling particularly down and doubtful. I shall forever Mark Ruffalo over you.
> 
> Special thanks to Vin Crow (@GR33NCR0W on Ao3) for the review that inspired me to finish the chapter strong!
> 
> As always, thank you to my KuroDai Discord babes for being a constant rock in my life. I don't know what I'd do without you guys, man!

“I don’t even know where to start,” Kuroo admitted, overwhelmed by all of the foliage around him. He knew he had to take soil samples first, but then he could dive into staring at the plants and breaking a few leaves off to study them on a cellular level. There was so much to do, and his mind was completely frazzled from excitement. 

And annoyance.

Not only had these people withheld this from him for far longer than they should have, but he wasn’t finished with his conversation with Daichi.

Things were ridiculously complicated. Not in the fun “everything-is-a-puzzle” science way, like all these plants, but the emotionally crippling way that made him feel like things were spiraling out of control. Hell, who was he kidding? Things had been out of control the moment he’d set foot in this place, and it only seemed to get worse the longer he stayed.

While Daichi and Ukai sought out his bag from the supply room, Kuroo carefully entered the antibiotic lab and pulled his microscope and some empty slides to the side for future use. He knew he couldn’t set up another lab in that space and decided that, for the time being and just for observation, he would set up shop in the plant room.

Plant room? What did they even call it? He hadn’t asked. “Plant room” sounded kind of pathetic, didn’t it?

“Eden,” he said to himself, looking around the green room. It was the word that had come to his mind when he’d seen it, and it was such a fitting and cliché name that it was perfect.

“Eden? Is that what you’re calling it?” Ukai asked, setting his pack down with Daichi in tow. Daichi had brought with him a table and chair for Kuroo to start his work upon, but he could see that the scientist hardly knew what to do with himself, a million things rumbling through his mind simultaneously. He’d never seen him looked so frazzled.

“Unless you’d like me to call it something else,” Kuroo beamed. The smile hadn’t left his face since he’d entered the room and, frankly, Daichi hoped it would remain that way for a long time. He was so beautiful when he was in his element. He knew he was finally seeing the real Kuroo. His guard was down and he seemed more like a human being, or at least like whom he’d be if the darkness of this world hadn’t gotten to him.

“We just call it the green house,” Daichi said, shrugging a bit.

“Aptly named,” Kuroo said, placing his microscope on the table with the empty slides and tubes for sampling. “But this is…” he paused, looking around him. The green reflected off his irises as if the images were merging into his DNA and becoming a part of him. “This is the turning point of the world.” He turned his eyes back to them, amazement and wonder dancing on his face. “This is history, where the books will reference the dawn of the new era.”

The two swallowed hard. Watching Kuroo was like nothing they’d ever seen, and the way he was describing their humble abode was, frankly, making them a little uncomfortable. While fascinating, it was beginning to sink in just how much was about to change, and how their small community could be turning into something more.

What did all of this mean for them, anyways?

It was too early to tell, as Suga had mentioned, but the change would be big and their lives would be forever altered.

“Well, then,” Ukai said, scratching his cheek absently. “I’m going to let you get to history and such. Let us know if there is anything you need. And please, don’t disturb much if you can help it.”

“Yes sir,” he said, gaze already buried in the eye pieces of his microscope and cleaning the lenses with special tools.

Daichi pursed his lips for a moment, gave one last look to the sight in front of him, and turned to follow Ukai out.

“Not you,” Kuroo said. His eyes flicked up to meet him, expectant and full of promise should he disobey.

Daichi bit at the inside of his cheek, slowly turning back to face the taller man to meet that gaze. Kuroo didn’t move a muscle until Daichi closed the door softly. He was really, really lucky he was in a good mood.

“Did you enjoy watching my clueless face as I grasped at straws trying to figure out what the hell is going on here?” Why did Daichi feel like he was being chastised by a parent? “Logically, yes, it seems extremely obvious now, but when you truly believe the possibility for life doesn’t exist, it’s not exactly a mystery why I was so perplexed.”

“I understand your frustration,” he said. It was an empty sentence that was non-committal and was simply said to fill the air between them, rather than comfort him in any way. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand his plight or why he was angry, but simply that he had nothing to give him that would make him feel better. Kuroo’s face told him he wasn’t impressed.

He sighed. The tough guy act was exhausting but, more than that, it was impossible to maintain with Daichi. He couldn’t fault him for anything and, though he truly was angry in a lot of ways, he couldn’t assign liability to anyone at all. And that was the most frustrating part.

“Ok, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll forget the whole thing… if you take the medicine.” Again, he was grasping at straws.

Daichi’s face soured.

“Daichi,” he sighed again. “I shouldn’t have to blackmail you to take some damn medicine.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “But I will if I have to. I’m sure you don’t want anyone finding out about this, so how about you just do as I ask?”

“And why wouldn’t they figure it out if medicine is suddenly missing?” Daichi raised a brow and folded his arms over his chest.

Kuroo’s mouth hung open a bit, then closed, and then he growled and rubbed the back of his neck. Damn him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take the fall, and you take the medicine.”

“That’s even worse.” It was upsetting that Kuroo would go to such lengths for him and, honestly, seemed so out of character for him to be so frantic.

“Well, I’m running out of options, here, Daichi.” He was coming undone. “I don’t care what they think of me. You don’t want them to know, this is your option. If you tell them, they’ll suggest you do the same thing I am asking: to take a risk and take some of the medicine from Yachi.”

He was right.

He was out of options, and he was going to lose no matter what.

“Daichi. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to Yachi. So, please…”

The desperation in his voice, while muted, was no less apparent than before, and it soaked him to the core.

“Okay,” he said sadly. “Okay, I’ll tell them.”

The victory somehow felt more like defeat. The guilt that clouded those brown eyes was almost more than he could bear. Why was he suddenly feeling like he was the one who betrayed everyone? Daichi had made this choice, and while it was founded on good intentions, he had to accept the consequences.

This love for Daichi was twisting his moral compass, making him stick his nose into matters that he had no right to. Had this been some other community, he wouldn’t have fought the decision much. He was being so incredibly selfish that he was forcing someone to do something they didn’t want to because _he_ couldn’t bear to see Daichi waste away.

But he was pale. He was so, so pale. His baggy shirts and pants couldn’t hide the fact that he’d lost weight. The sheen of sweat that seemed to be a constant accessory to his skin was hardly kept at bay by the handkerchief hidden in his pocket and would soon be drenching his clothing in dark patches. Observing him even now was tightening his chest with worry. All he wanted to do was draw him close and protect him at all costs. Was it okay to show him that?

“You asked me if I’ve ever done something for myself…” he said, slowly closing the gap between them and taking Daichi’s jaw into the palm of his hand. “This is it.”

Brown eyes widened. His pulse quickened and thundered in his ears with everything those words implied. His heart skipped a beat as Kuroo ran a thumb over his cheek. It was then he realized Kuroo looked nervous, like he regretted what had just left his lips, but he knew it was too late to turn back. He was certain that the scientist could feel his pulse beneath his fingertips, and though his blood rushed hot under his skin, his entire body was frozen in place.

They were drawing closer, pulled by some force that neither of them wanted to fight anymore. Hot, humid breath touched Kuroo’s lips and his eyelids dropped lower the higher his heart rate seemed to climb. And Daichi wasn’t fighting him. He lifted his hand and grabbed at Kuroo’s shirt and tugged just enough to be all the agreement he needed.

A shrill beep split the air between them and Daichi flinched away, reaching up to hold his ear as he winced and Kuroo yanked his wrist away. He wanted to die in that moment as he frantically slammed on the buttons of his watch. It was alerting him that his heart rate had reached unsafe levels and he could not have been more mortified. What in the world had come over him?! He stopped the beeping and cleared his throat, taking another step back and swung himself back towards his equipment. The absence of the alarm made the silence between them deafening.

“You should probably go,” he finally said. Daichi stood motionless a moment longer, blinking back the shock that was still rippling through his system.

He simply swallowed and nodded, pulling himself from the dirt and slipping quietly out the heavy door.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I gathered you here,” Daichi said. His resolve was steely, almost chilling, now that they’d decided on the course of action.

They were all crowded together in the common room, some sitting on the couch and chairs, others standing behind them, and Daichi at the head, poised in front of the book shelves. Kuroo was hanging towards the back, sitting at the table by himself, turned towards them.

Kenma had fixed him with a look as soon as he’d entered the space. He knew Kuroo had something to do with this, but he’d held his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so…” he paused for but a moment, then continued on. “I have Rust Sickness. I’m not going to lie, it’s bad.”

Kuroo raised a brow at the crassness of the announcement. It wasn’t exactly how he’d have done it, but he was also a firm believer that simple was best and, well, this was straight and to the point.

The shock was short, and the outrage was soon to follow.

“What?” Kiyoko asked in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” There was both sadness and anger in Tanaka’s voice, but most of all, the shock bled through laced with hurt.

“I wanted to make sure that everyone was taken care of before I asked for any medicine, myself.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Seriously, what the hell?”

Suga stayed deathly quiet, fixing Daichi with narrowed eyes, hardly able to keep from boiling over. Of all the things had happened, now this? As if they didn’t have enough to worry about, and as if things weren’t already so complicated. It was far more complicated than anyone else realized, as well.

“Where is Kuroo? Can’t he do something?” Tora asked, looking around.

Before Kuroo could stand and speak up, Daichi spoke for him.

“Kuroo didn’t know. There was not enough medicine to treat everyone. I made the personal choice of not telling anyone.”

“Are the antibiotics done?” Asahi said, trying to be helpful.

“No.” Oh.

“Then…” the rest was inferred, and everyone became silent with worry. “You’re not saying we… have to take some from Yachi?”

“No, I’m not.”

Kuroo stood. “That’s what _I’m_ saying. Daichi’s symptoms manifested quite differently than Yachi’s, which is the only reason he’s been able to keep it under wraps for so long,” he said, sending Daichi a little glower. “And, frankly, if you want him to live, you’re going to have to take the risk and start Daichi’s treatment. Now.”

They were not happy with this, and it was clear Daichi wasn’t either. Kuroo could not care less about their feelings in that moment. This was a choice they would have to make. However, true to his word, he would respect what the group decided… because he knew it would be in his favor. How childish he was, vetting for an outcome that served him rather than letting things lie.

“I estimate the antibiotics will be ready for ingestion in three days. If you wait three days to treat Daichi, there will be irreversible damage to his tissues…” he hesitated. Dare he tell them what came after…? “And possibly his brain.”

The gasps and murmurs danced through the room and Daichi narrowed his eyes at him. He stood his ground. He was not someone who liked beating around the bush when life and death were on the line.

Noya was uncharacteristically quiet, eyes wide as he tried to digest their options. Hinata looked to be similar, squeezing onto Kenma subconsciously, and Kenma looked at Kuroo with a raised brow. He didn’t look too happy either.

“So you see, there is no real choice.”

“Daichi, why would you wait this long…” Saeko asked. It was more of a rhetorical question, a chastisement of disbelief and denial of the current situation.

“Well, obviously we have to do it.” Suga said, finally. A small silence settled over the group. Asahi pursed his lips, looking to Suga for guidance, clearly battling within himself for the best answer. Suga gave a single nod in affirmation, that it was the only way to go about this.

“But Yachi still has a cough, her rashes haven’t disappeared, and she’s just finally been able to do things on her own for prolonged periods of time. And you said she’d need more.” It was Tanaka again, fighting back tears and masking them behind a frown and clenched fists.

“Yes, it is not without risk.”

“What are the risks exactly?” Asahi said, tentatively.

“The risk is that the RS strain in Yachi will develop somewhat of a resistance to the antibiotics and it will be much harder to get rid of. However, it also might not happen, either. Another risk is that, because of the resistance, the infection will come back even stronger.” It went quiet once more nobody seemed to like these risks.

“Why didn’t we do this earlier when the symptoms weren’t as bad? Wouldn’t it have been easier to balance?” Ukai asked, but it was more of a matter-of-fact, curious question instead of a jab of blame.

“No, actually. The risks would be the same, but instead of in one individual, it would be in two because the antibiotics would have run out weeks ago. Several weeks is a long time for resistant strains to procreate and spread. And the risks become less ‘risk’ and more ‘certainty,’ if you’d like me to be clear.”

Daichi stared at him and he stared right back. He could see the pleading in his eyes and the pain of having to sit through this debate. It hurt. He knew he was doing the right thing, so why did it hit him right in the chest and knock the wind out of him? He clenched his fists against the sensation.

“I recommend you make a decision quickly, or I will do it for you,” Kuroo said. All eyes turned to him in shock. “Either you let him die, or you take a risk.” Perhaps they didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation. He didn’t know how else to put it so it would sink into their thick skulls. He had had to make difficult decisions all of his life, and this was by far the least morally ambiguous of them all.

“I was hoping that the antibiotics would be done before I truly needed treatment…” Daichi said meekly, trying to explain.

“Please,” Yachi’s tiny voice came. “Let him take them. I’ll be fine.” Yachi had a way of commanding the room without trying, the group’s fierce protective nature of her weighing heavily on them. She looked at Kuroo and smiled. “I know Kuroo will do everything in his power to save us both.”

“That’s right,” Kuroo agreed, his voice softening. At least Yachi understood him. She was the only sane person here, it seemed.

There was a hesitance, but they all finally nodded in agreement. Daichi looked sullen, the guilt still prevalent even though the decision had been made.

Kuroo immediately retrieved the medication, dumping two pills into Daichi’s hand and shoving a water bag into the other.

“Two now, one before bed, and then one three times a day. No exceptions.”

He stared at the pills in his hand, then swallowed them.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Daichi seemed to avoid him for a quite a while after that. Kuroo spent most of the time in the green room, studying the soil, and when he felt he was going to go insane from staring at the particles, he would move to the greenery and get a closer look at their physical intricacies. Every vein in every leaf was telling, but the most remarkable part of the green room was probably the flowering plants.

They would be difficult to maintain, especially with no source of pollination. Yet, here they were, thriving, and he couldn’t have been more excited. With a magnifying glass, he peered at the tiny stamens with scrutiny, but dared not disturb them too much lest he damage the delicate petals and sepals.

With every discovery, he wanted to turn and gush to Daichi, and the more it happened, the more distracted he became, and the harder it was to focus on his duties.

He sighed and paced back to the microscope on the table, switching the contaminated soil sample to the nutrient rich one, then back. He pulled both side by side and clicked a few buttons on the stalk of the microscope, bringing up a side by side image on the screen attached to it. It was a useful little feature in these kinds of situations.

He had found that the soil was not without contamination, but that it contained very minimal amounts. He upped the power, adjusting a dial on the side to make tiny micro-movements of the slides. At this level, the most delicate of human touch would send the image flying across the screen, and the dial was imperative for accurate searching. His face was glued to the screen, watching the bacteria move and go about their lives until he finally caught it. He found what was keeping the soil healthy.

The bacteria were eating the contaminants.

His jaw dropped.

With the fall of the world, all organisms had suffered, and even microorganisms were pushed to extinction and in dire need of a new source of fuel.

But this was beyond his expectations.

This was the stuff he lived for. Nature was taking things into her owns hands and creating a way to fix herself. It was incredible.

Kuroo’s head shot up every time the door to the green room swung open, hoping it was Daichi, but Daichi never came. He couldn’t stand it. The anxiety was pinging through him, making him restless, and his leg bounced under the table as a funnel for that energy, but he finally snapped.

He’d been cooped up far too long in this place and, even though he was in the midst of scientific study, he needed to move… and he wanted to see Daichi. More than anything else, he wanted to see Daichi. He wanted to tell him about what he’d discovered, wanted to check on him and see if he was alright, anything as long as it was with him. It was strange, really. He never thought that anything would be able to pull him away from a microscope when he was on a roll. He’d lost weeks of sleep at the capitol, had been forcefully dragged away by Akaashi and Bokuto… but he couldn’t concentrate with things up in the air with Daichi.

When he found him, he was in his room on house arrest, a book in hand as he lay there bored out of his mind. He couldn’t help but smirk.

“Ah, so this is where you’ve been.”

“I’ve been viciously mutinied. I’m ‘on bed rest until further notice,’” he said, making quotations around the hard cover of the book, but eyes never leaving the words inside. He turned the page.

It had only been two days since he’d seen him, but if he was feeling the same way Kuroo was, he had an excellent proposition. “How about we play hooky? You’ve got to keep your strength, after all.” A thinly veiled excuse.

“Mmm, I dunno. This is a really good book. Wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of Suga, either.”

“You’re not actually reading,” he smirked, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms over his chest. “Stop,” he laughed.

Daichi let the top of the book fall to cover his face as he laughed. Damn him. He shut the book and let it rest on his chest, fixing Kuroo with an expectant stare.

“And where would you be kidnapping me to?”

Kuroo felt relief wash over him. They were okay… Daichi seemed normal, better than normal even. Perhaps he was already feeling better, or perhaps he’d forgiven Kuroo… He hoped it was both.

"This is going to sound like a strange request," Kuroo said, drawing closer and lowering his voice. "I’d like to go outside.”

Outside? Why in the world would anyone want to go out there when there was perfectly good air in here? As if he could read his mind, Kuroo chuckled a little and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I haven't seen a sunset since I've been here... It's just something I like to do to remind myself that Earth is still a beautiful place and to never give up on it, even until my dying breath.”

Daichi searched his eyes, the words humbling him. He'd never thought about going out to watch a sunset for pleasure. He'd always associated it with fear: the night brought nothing but death and the inability to find a way home. Yet, here Kuroo stood before him telling him it was something to be embraced. It was incredible, actually, that two points of view of the same picture could be so vastly different.

Well, he thought suddenly, Kuroo  _did_  have night vision goggles that would make it far easier to navigate at night. He had a mask that, until recently, the underground base had no means of creating, and time spent outside was limited. Though the moon sometimes shone through the haze, it was not something that could always be relied upon for travelling.

“And," he continued, locking eyes with his companion. “I’d like to get away from everyone and chat. Just the two of us.” That was bold of him to say, but he was feeling more and more certain that Daichi felt the same way.

"I don't see why not." Daichi shifted to his elbows, propping himself up and wiggling his way to sit up with his back against the wall. "I have to tell you though, the sun sets behind the canyon, so you probably won't see much."

"I know. I want to go to the top of it."

He stared at Kuroo in shock. He'd make such a trek just for a sunset? This was obviously something important to him, and he wanted to share it with him. It made his stomach flutter to recognize his vulnerable gesture.

"Alright. Then we better get going, don’t you think?"

Kuroo's brows shot up, but his face soon melted into a satisfied smirk. "Fine by me."

-o-o-o-o-o-

At the top of the canyon, the rocks of the cliff were bathed in gold and reds. The winds were low, just enough to ruffle their hair and gently cool the exposed skin of their faces. The sun was already low in the sky, and Kuroo looked at his watch briefly before searching around for something Daichi did not yet know. For the first time in months he’d removed the thing and now kept it in his pocket for reference. He didn’t need ear piercing noise disturbing a serene moment.

And he needed to talk to Daichi about something important.

He gestured to him to come along, leading him to a rock that protruded up into a nice facet that Kuroo seemed to deem as the perfect place to hunker down. He crawled up without much effort and plopped down on it facing the sun. He looked up to Daichi's eyes, and though the mask covered his face, Daichi could see the mischievous smile that reached his eyes and gave off a troublesome glint. Kuroo patted the rock on his right and gave it a little rub, beckoning.

Daichi rolled his eyes at the blatant taunt. He stepped forward but passed up the spot to his right in favor of the one to his left out of sheer defiance. Kuroo watched him, mirth dancing across his eyes.

Their respirators hissed, but otherwise it was quiet between them for some time. Nothing needed to be said, honestly. Wide, brown eyes were skimming the mix of cumulous and stratus clouds that stretched across the horizon. He had never, ever stopped like this to simply voyeur and take it all in. Glances to the sky were to determine weather, not a leisurely walk for fun.

What did that say about Kuroo? He was just as busy, just as fearful as the rest of them out here and, against logic, had stopped in his tracks and realized there was still a beautiful Earth that was around them even now.

“Coming here has been…” The scientist searched for the right words. “The best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Daichi smiled behind his mask, his cheeks puffing out from the sides with genuine joy. He glanced at Kuroo and stopped. His face, calm and content, reflected more soft love than he’d ever seen on anyone. It was bathed in the fading sunlight, making his darker skin appear a soft golden, tarnished by exposure, but still glowing beautifully. The red collected in his eyes like his corneas were made of thin rubies, tinting the color of his irises a stunning amber.

He was seeing the sunset not just in front of him, but directly through Kuroo’s eyes and it was the most breathtaking scene he’d ever seen.

He filled with warmth, taking in a slow, deep breath as he turned to watch the clouds again.

The sun diffusing through the clouds took on an almost watery shape, turning the clouds he’d once seen as daunting and ugly into something precious and striking.

It was so quiet.

And it was just them.  In that moment it truly felt as though they were the only two individuals left on the planet.

It was an emotional experience he had not been prepared for, nor would he thought he would _have_ by simply watching the sky.

“I’ve discovered what is making the soil healthy in the dirt underground.” He smiled, sparing Daichi a glance.

“Kuroo, that’s wonderful!” It was. So why did he feel apprehensive of it?

“It’s quite extraordinary. I’m anxious to see if I can replicate the environment. It appears that the bacteria in the soil have evolved to eat the contaminants. In turn, I think they excrete nutrients back into the soil. I haven’t witnessed that yet, but it’s a logical assumption.”

“Wow. You figured all that out already? You’re really amazing,” he said. His tone, though quiet, was full of awe.

“Don’t praise me yet,” he chuckled. “I still have to find the specific ratio to find optimal thriving conditions. As with anything, there has to be a balance. Too much contamination will undoubtedly still kill the bacteria, which is why the earth isn’t covered in plant life again already.” They were inching closer to each other, a lean here, and an adjustment there. “If I can figure out the fastest way to replicate, I can start making some progress.”

And call headquarters at the capitol. He needed to report back and there was no way around that. There was no doubt they’d send teams to back him up. They’d send Akaashi…

But he didn’t want them to come here and upset Daichi’s colony. The only option would be for him to take as many samples he could and deliver them back to the capitol labs. That would be extremely difficult, however. The soil would most likely dry up before he could even get back, and if he could keep them damp, the long period of being in tubes or dishes would suffocate the bacteria… He had to think of something, and fast.

The sunset calmed Kuroo, put things back into perspective to him. There were a lot of complicated parts that he needed to start putting into play, and he knew there would be a long, uphill battle with all of them.

Every road’s end lead back to the fact that he would still have to leave.

"Daichi..." Kuroo said, never taking his eyes off of the bright, cardinal red clouds that slowly morphed into burgundy. "When I leave, I need you to remember something."

When he left? No. Why would he have to leave when everything he needed was here? His tone was incredibly daunting. He was afraid of what might come next.

"You truly have to have a stone heart to make it in this world. Never let your guard down, and stop letting people in."

"Kuroo, What are you saying? That's absurd."

“It's not." His energy was low, as if was being beaten down into noting.

Daichi didn't know what to say, his eyes locked on Kuroo as he desperately tried to decipher what he was getting at. There were too many things divulged in these simple sentences, and all of them hurt.

Hadn’t they just extended his time here indefinitely with the revelation of the plant life? So why was he talking about leaving? He didn't want Kuroo to leave, and he wasn't thinking of his comrades. No, for the first time since he could remember, he was only thinking of himself.

He didn't want Kuroo to leave him.

The thought made his chest ache, the anxiety of it cooling his muscles and making them tighten painfully. His fists clenched into themselves, fingers biting into his palms to keep from reaching out and physically grabbing Kuroo, as if that would make him stay. There were so many emotions rolling through him and all of them were hard to understand, but one thing was clear: What he felt for Kuroo was not a passing infatuation. He loved him and could no longer imagine his life without him.

The realization was a hard pill to swallow. He never imagined something like this happening. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about love, but he had accepted it as something that may possibly never come and of all the people in the world, it had to be this man? He was elusive, mysterious, and above all else, someone who was a temporary fixture in his life.

He'd let his guard down, alright, but it wasn't in the way Kuroo had meant.

His lips parted with the subconscious effort to speak and he was grateful, now, for the shield of the mask strapped to his face to conceal his growing discomfort. 

"I disagree," he said, making a conscious effort to steady the wavering of his voice. "I think it is imperative to demonstrate sympathy and empathy, and it makes you stronger because of it."

"Daichi, that will be your weakness and your downfall. The others out there," he paused, searching the clouds for some way to convey what he was trying to say. "They will prey upon that weakness and they will crush you and take everything from you."

He didn't like this conversation one bit. The sadness and anxiety was now turning into anger, boiling up and filling him to the brim. How could he say something like that? It was not only an insult to his intelligence, but it was an insult to his character, and he couldn't help but take it personally. He turned on the rock to face him, fixing his glare onto Kuroo's face that was, for the first time he'd seen, devoid of emotion. It just made him angrier, and if it weren't for the sunset, he'd think he really was seeing red.

"And what about you, huh? You've been nothing but kind since you've been here."

Kuroo's poker-face faltered. It wasn't just a minor slip. It was an array of feelings that made his face completely vulnerable, but no less unreadable. He didn't know what any of it meant, but he could tell that Kuroo was struggling with something.

"That's different."

"How? Enlighten me." There was another long pause and another violent struggle of emotions on Kuroo's face. He couldn't help but prod at him, his insecurities releasing themselves in a way that was foreign to him. He'd never been in this situation, and he was getting ugly. He raised his voice. "How, Kuroo?"

"Because we're  _forced_ into this situation, Daichi. It’s an arrangement." He finally turned to him, narrowing his eyes dangerously. It sent a shiver up Daichi's spine, but the plummet in his stomach was enough to make him nauseous.

"Is that what this is to you? An arrangement and fake kindness?" Daichi asked, incredulous and hurt. Kuroo said nothing, and that only made him angrier. After all this time, this was still a “mutually beneficial arrangement” and they were both just “using” each other? It was impossible, and he knew that, so why was Kuroo lying about it? He asked him again. “Kuroo. That’s what this is to you?” He hoped, begged in his mind, for Kuroo to deny it. Kuroo still said nothing, lowering his head. Kuroo was infuriating.

He pulled his mask over his head and tossed it on the ground, standing abruptly. He couldn't believe he would dare say something so blatantly disrespectful. Kuroo's eyes lit with worry and he stood as well, reaching for the mask.

"Daichi, put your mask back on."

He kicked it behind himself, out of Kuroo's reach and stood between them.

"If  _you_  stop being ridiculous, then  _I'll_  stop being ridiculous."

Was he that transparent? Daichi saw through him so easily? That couldn't be true. Not even Bokuto or Akaashi could crack his poker-face. He was a very,  _very_  good liar. So why now? Why wasn't it working? How did it end up like this? This was simply meant to be a solo journey to watch the sunset, and somehow it had turned into an argument with the last person he wanted to have an altercation with.

“Oh, really?”

Yet, for some reason, instead of simply giving in, he raised an eyebrow and, against his better judgment, reached up and stubbornly removed his own mask. The look on Daichi's face was priceless as he tossed it to the side and put a hand on his hip. Two could play at this game.

Sure, he was damaging his lungs to be a big player in this child's game, and he honestly had no idea why Daichi brought out the petulant child in him, but from the looks of it, he did the same to Daichi.

"Here we are, standing at the top of a cliff and breathing in toxic air like two idiots. Now what?"  _Your move,_  he thought, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're really just using us? You feel nothing at all for the people you've been with for over a month?"

Silence squeezed Kuroo's throat in an iron grasp, locking his airways shut. He couldn't force the lie out. He tried, opening his mouth to speak but nothing came and he squeezed his eyes shut and growled angrily at himself.  _Stupid._ "That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?”

“Daichi, I _can’t_ stay here.” His resolve was cracking.

“Why? Why can’t we rebuild from here?”

It was a valid question, and a telling one. It plainly unveiled Daichi’s feelings and was something he’d thought many times over when he thought of just how much he didn’t want to leave, just how much he wanted to tell Daichi how he felt. He’d gone over so many possibilities in his mind on how to make his stay here permanent, but every simulation was a neglect of his core duties.

He turned his face towards the setting sun and he let the sorrow he felt wash over his expression. Why hide it anymore? What was the point? He’d done nothing but fight himself since he got here, had tried to keep himself from attachment, and it hadn’t worked. His life’s training and his heart had been at war since he’d met this man.

“This is bigger than us,” he said softly. “Please… put your mask back on.”

Daichi grit his teeth. This guy made him want to pull his hair out in frustration! Why couldn’t he just say what he really felt? He was always dodging around any issue that was remotely personal and deflecting back onto ‘duties’ and the more he tried to pull the real Kuroo out of that shell, the farther he seemed to recede.

He was wrong. He’d been so wrong about whatever was happening between them. This was his first real love and it was shattering around him, but what had he expected falling for someone who was so emotionally unavailable? He scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment and resentment. What a joke.

He was such a fool.

“Unbelievable,” he said, snatching his mask up and walking past him to start his descent down the canyon. He pulled it over his face, resisting the urge to cough from the dryness in his throat. Whether it was from the particles in the air or the turbulent emotions, he didn’t know.

Kuroo followed. His chest was starting to rise and fall more quickly with the panic that was beginning to take over his entire body. He wanted to reach out and grab him, say something that could make Daichi feel better, but there was nothing. It was better this way. His mission was more important than anything else, but that disappointment in Daichi’s voice was far scarier than any reprimanding he’d receive from his superiors. He’d rather be thrown in a cell to rot than hurt Daichi in any way.

He pulled his mask over his face, pulled his goggles down over his eyes, hid behind their security and tried desperately to get a hold of himself. His fingers balled into fists and he clenched his jaw against the tension.

The trek back down the canyon was incredibly awkward and not a single word was said between them. Every passing moment chipped a little more at his tenacity. Each sound of a rock scraping against his boot was a shrill scratch against his ear drum, like every sound was heightened in the worst way possible as he hoped Daichi would say something.

What could he say though? He could chastise him, could yell at him or shove him or _anything_ and Kuroo would have welcomed it. Something.

He was going crazy.

When they climbed down the ladder and began dusting themselves off, there had still been no words exchanged. Not even a glare or acknowledgement at all. He tossed his gear away, removed his coat and left him there like he wasn’t even in the room. Kuroo scrambled to follow, giving no thought to the fact that he was literally throwing some of the most expensive government equipment into a corner like it was meant for the trash. He shrugged his jacket off, let that fall, too, and jogged to catch up.

They received a strange, shocked look from Suga and Asahi in the common room. They’d never seen Daichi look this perturbed, and they sure as hell would never expect Kuroo to be following after him with a look of guilt and fear.

Suga frowned. He didn’t like the looks of this, and he also suddenly realized Daichi was not in his room like he was supposed to be. He opened his mouth to shout in protest. Asahi grabbed his forearm to stop him, eyes still fixed on Kuroo’s panicked face, even as they disappeared into the hallway.

Daichi was headed straight for his room, and he knew as soon as he got past the door he wouldn’t be coming out for a long time, and he certainly wouldn’t be letting Kuroo in, either.

_Have you ever actually done something for yourself?_

The words echoed in his mind. It was like that simple statement had pulled the stopper from the bottle that kept his true self locked away, the self that wanted love and affection and to live for himself instead of the world.

He liked the way he felt around Daichi, felt giddy with the tumbles in his stomach every time he flashed that gorgeous smile. He itched to touch him, something that was an entirely new concept to him, and every passing second multiplied those feelings into a fierce need that was overtaking him.

“Daichi.” His hand was reaching out to grab his elbow before he could restrain himself, stopping him from entering his room and leaving him in the cold hallway. Everything was self-destructing in his mind, in his heart. He’d really messed up. One thing was certain: he didn’t want to lose Daichi. He wanted to take back everything he’d said up there, wanted to admit every doubtful thought and internal struggle he’d been wrestling. He didn’t want to lie anymore.

“I’m not using you,” he admitted in a frantic whisper. His heart thundered in his rib cage. “You’re...” he hesitated. His mind was dashing in every direction a mile a minute. He needed to get it off his chest, and he had to be truthful with him. “You’re changing everything and I just…  I don’t know what to do.” He thought of what he said on the canyon, how he’d told him to turn his heart to stone when he couldn’t even do that for himself. He wanted so badly to protect him. “You’ve become my _weakness_.”

He heard Daichi’s breath hitch and they searched each other’s eyes. Daichi turned completely. His eyes told him he wasn’t lying, the desperation in his voice told him he was coming undone. He was his weakness? He moved closer and looked up at him with tenderness and understanding. It felt unreal.

“Why can’t I be your strength?” He asked, voice hardly above a murmur.

_Have you ever actually done something for yourself?_

He felt something snap within him and he reached forward. His right hand slid to the small of his back, and his left snaked up to grab the back of his neck and pull him against his body. When their lips met, it was electricity exploding through his muscles. His lips were softer than he could have ever imagined, and when he reciprocated and hooked his arms around him in return, his mind went blank.

A tongue slipped past his lips, seeking entry, and he gave it eagerly as his whole body reacted. His tongue was sweet, and he fought the urge to moan as they twirled around each other. They broke apart only long enough to switch angles, the kiss becoming more desperate and needy. Daichi couldn’t stop his hands from wandering, sliding down his chest and sides in a quest he’d longed to undertake since he’d seen him undressed in his room. The tips of his fingers slipped below the hem of his pants and tugged the black shirt free, rubbing his thumbs against the bones of the bare hips under the tight fabric and Kuroo faltered in their kiss with a shiver.

They were moving in sync and frenzy, pushing into Daichi’s room and shutting the door behind them and coming back together into another heated kiss. Kuroo was already breathless, allowing Daichi to peel his compression shirt up and over his head to toss it to the side. His hands continued onto bare skin, splaying across his chest and tracing his abs with eagerness. His skin was still bruised around his rib cage, faded and yellowed, and he caressed them apologetically.

Kuroo pulled at the baggy cotton shirt that covered Daichi, the article slipping easily from his body as Daichi moved to aid him. For a moment he hesitated, insecurity flickering across his eyes as the unattractive rash was now bared to Kuroo again, but Kuroo didn’t stop. He still found him beautiful, every inch of him, and vowed in his head that he’d make him forget he was sick at all. He carefully avoided the tender spots as if they weren’t even there, drawing attention to the sensitive nerves of his nipples and circling his thumbs to elicit a pleasured hiss. They hardened beneath the careful stimulation, sent goose bumps rippling down his arms that made him quake against the other man. Kuroo feathered his fingers down his trembling stomach and dipped down to fumble with the tie of his pants.

Their lips crushed together again, all of the restraints of the past month forgotten and lost as their feelings burst from them like a storm. Once released, his pants slid effortlessly from his hips and pooled at his feet. He toed his shoes off quickly, kicking the heap to the side and made quick work of Kuroo’s next.

He cursed his boots in that moment, suddenly remembering how difficult they’d be to get off, but Daichi was one step ahead, sliding to his knees and pushing his face against Kuroo’s hardly contained erection while his fingers worked deftly to untie his laces. He gasped quietly in anticipation, one set of fingers sliding into Daichi’s hair, and the other set pulling himself free from the confines of his tight under fabric. Daichi’s lips were hot and wet against his skin, sent a deep ripple of pleasure through him that made his breath speed up. A gentle kiss against his shift made his knees weak.

But nothing prepared him for when those lips wrapped around his cock and enveloped him in wet heat. His head fell back and a throaty moan escaped his throat, his fingers clasping around the strands of hair between his fingers. He saw stars, felt light headed and dizzy from the sparks of pleasure that wracked through him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, swinging his head forward to look down at Daichi with half lidded eyes and bated breath. He looked incredible with his cock down his throat. As his hot tongue slid against the underside of his shaft, he was acutely aware that he would not be able to last very long at this rate. As soon as his boots were loose enough, he was pulling Daichi up and lifted him around his hips to carry him to the bed. They both went down, and as he freed them from the last of their clothing, Daichi was kissing his neck and biting at his ear.

A shiver shot through him and he moaned against Daichi’s face. Their lips met again and he wrapped his fingers around Daichi’s pulsing erection, rubbing the tip with his thumb and drawing a whimper from the man beneath him. He was instantly addicted. Hands raked through his hair as he pushed Daichi’s legs apart, reached down to tease at his entrance and stroked at the tight muscle. He slid the first digit inside and he arched with a gasp, nails digging into the flesh of his back. He nearly came just watching the pleasure melt over his face.

He carefully twisted his wrist, pushing a second finger against his opening and gently, slowly widening the gap as he nipped a trail down his neck to his collar bone. A hand shot back to grip Kuroo’s bicep in a steely grasp so hard that he was sure it would bruise his skin, another gasp filling his ears. The thighs straddling around his hips tightened and his thumb became slick with precum as they trembled against his sides.

His eyes frantically darted to something, anything in the room that could help him. He didn’t want to hurt Daichi, and he was being as gentle as possible even if his mind wanted to tear him apart, but he wasn’t sure he could hold himself back much longer. He pulled away from Daichi momentarily as his eyes caught the oil lamp on the nightstand. He fumbled for it, struggled with shaking hands to try to open it and it toppled over on the flat surface, spilling oil onto the smooth wood of the dresser. He dipped his fingers into it, satiated Daichi’s whimper with a hard kiss and slid his fingers back down between his legs and slipped them back inside.

He moaned against his lips and desperately attempted to keep his hips from bucking against the smaller man like some wild animal, patiently curling his fingers inside of him and stretching him more and more until he could fit a third finger. His restraint was running thinner with each moan, each connection between their bodies sparking unimaginable pleasure.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. His hand bolted to the oil, slathered his hand across it and leaned back to coat himself before nudging the tip of his cock against the entrance. Daichi wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders and he slowly, slowly pushed into him. Their eyes locked and their breath mingled as their bodies became one and he slid completely inside of him. They both moaned, eyes sliding shut momentarily as the heat washed over them and left them breathless. He stayed motionless to let Daichi set the pace, seeking approval before he rocked his hips and drove another moan from Daichi’s lips.

The sound only fueled him more, made him growl with heat as he pulled back and drove himself into him again. The tempo gradually quickened as he pushed deeper and deeper. He grabbed Daichi’s thighs—god, those amazing thighs—and yanked them closer to his hips, bucking into him.

“Ah!” Daichi arched again, jerked against another wave of ecstasy that rolled over him. He couldn’t get enough. His pleasure was Kuroo’s power and their labored breathing filled the space between them until Kuroo lowered himself and stole his lips again. Their tongues met, battled, and Daichi bit Kuroo’s lip and Kuroo’s nails dug into the skin at his hips.

Daichi’s hard erection pressed between their stomachs as Kuroo continued to rock his hips, thrusting into him over and over until Daichi thought he was going to explode. His thighs were shaking, his moans trembling, and his hands were clawing at Kuroo’s smooth skin with more and more desperation.

Kuroo flung his left hand to the wall over Daichi’s head to hold himself up, gasping and quickly reaching between them to curl his fingers around Daichi’s neglected cock, starting a rhythmic pump in time with their pace. Sweat dripped down his jaw and fell to the sheets below. Their eyes locked, the deep withheld emotions pouring out in those gazes and the moment of climax hit Kuroo like a train. His fingernails dug into the wall as he pumped his seed deep into Daichi’s willing body, and Daichi soon followed with a cry, bursting between them to coat their stomachs.

He rode out the climax, his hips slowing as his body got heavier and heavier with each passing moment. He was shaking, panting above Daichi and desperately trying to hold himself up as his muscles threatened to give out from under him with every inch of him spent. He pressed their foreheads together as he carefully lowered himself, both gasping for breath, but never taking their eyes off each other.

Holy shit.

“Daichi,” he whispered, blinking against his disbelief. The other leaned up to kiss him and he kissed weakly back. He’d never felt so spent in his life.

Daichi swallowed, smiled through his harsh breath and they gently chuckled together, high on emotion. Their foreheads were still pressed together, gazes locked and breathing mingled. Kuroo regrettably pulled himself tenderly out of his lover, pushing himself to lie beside him, chest still heaving. He hooked his arm under his shoulders and pulled him against his chest, unwilling to let him go.

Daichi complied all too willingly, resting his head on his chest and hooking an arm around his midsection.

Well, this was unexpected.

He almost couldn’t believe it had happened, how amazing it had been and still felt. What a whirlwind.

He suddenly remembered the oil and how it was currently dripping down the side of his dresser. He looked behind him briefly, eyeing it, and then laid his head back onto Kuroo’s chest.

“You owe me a new dresser, you know.”

“I’ll fucking build you one from scratch,” he purred into his ear, “every time, if it comes to it.” Daichi laughed.

“Every time? I like the sound of that.”

"So do I…” He admitted quietly, rubbing Daichi’s shoulder slowly.

"Do you know how hard it is to come by oil for lamps?” He teased.

“You’re killing me,” he laughed.

He lazily stared at the ceiling, feeling as if his brain had melted to mush. This was… better than anything he could have imagined. This was what it was like to do something for yourself? No wonder people were so self-serving.

Feeling Daichi pressed against him like this… it was incredible. His whole body tingled with satisfaction. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

“We should… probably clean up a bit,” Daichi said hesitantly. He didn’t want to move, but he was getting far too sleepy. They both lifted themselves sluggishly and Daichi pulled some towels from the dresser and handed one to Kuroo.

Daichi hissed a little as he dabbed at the mess closest to his rash, and Kuroo leaned down to gently kiss his shoulder.

“The pain will stop soon. You should spend some time in the green room. The oxygen will help a lot. Yachi, too.”

He couldn’t help but notice his tone was a little sad and, as soon as they were both clean, he pulled Kuroo back to bed and yanked the covers up over them. He was met with no resistance and the taller man slung his arm back around him and pulled him close. The blankets curled up around them cocooned them in warmth, hypnotized them into relaxed and deep breathing, and Daichi couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this comfortable.

Or happy.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to kiss you…” Kuroo said quietly. Daichi was grateful he could hide his giddy grin, rewarding his confession with a gentle stroke of his fingertips to his side. His arm was slung comfortably over his midsection, cheek pressed against his firm chest and head crooked against his shoulder.

“Is that so?” He bit his lip, trying to keep his smile from illuminating his tone. “You sure have a funny way of showing you like someone.”

Kuroo chuckled meekly.

“I’m sorry. I’m…” He trailed off a bit. He felt like he could tell Daichi anything, like he couldn’t help the information from bubbling out of him, years of bottled up emotions begging for release. He masked his discomfort with comedy: “I’m not supposed to fraternize on missions, but you’re just too seductive,” he snickered.

“‘Fraternize?’” Daichi laughed, rolling his eyes. “Is that what they call it in the military?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But no one actually uses that word. But _you_ fraternized _me,_ so it doesn’t count.”

The notion shed light on a lot of the strange behavior that Kuroo had been displaying since he’d arrived. So many things made sense now, and it just made him that much more sad for Kuroo. He couldn’t have meaningful relationships? That was truly alarming.

“Well… what do you do when you fall in love with someone, then?”

“Apparently, this.”

Daichi turned his head up and looked at him, resting his chin on his chest. Kuroo actually looked a little nervous, and the most vulnerable he had ever seen him.

“Love, huh? Wow, I mean I know it was good, but…”

“Stop,” Kuroo groaned, covering his face.

“Are you blushing?”

Kuroo laughed, shoving him away. “You’re the worst.” Even his neck was turning red. This was such a beautiful side of him, and he didn’t know how to show him how much he liked it. He lacked the proper words. He leaned forward, pulled Kuroo’s hands away from his face and kissed his lips.

Kuroo melted into him, easing into the kiss and snaking his arms around Daichi once again. He sighed happily.

“Question,” Daichi said, pulling away to fix him with an inquisitive stare.

“Answer,” Kuroo replied, raising his eyebrow a bit. “I’m an open book.”

“Well, you said you’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time,” he started, enjoying the way Kuroo’s face turned apprehensive. “How long are we talking?”

“You’re so cruel,” he sighed. “Well, let’s see, probably the moment you crushed my ribs,” he smirked and the mischief reached all the way to his eyes.

“That’s low,” he said, pursing his lips into a pout at the jab. “I didn’t take you for a masochist,” he countered.

“I’m kidding. Kidding.” It felt good to joke like this, to lounge with someone in comfort and pretend there wasn’t a terrible world beyond their doorstep. “Probably the moment I had to stare at your ass walking up the canyon.”

It was Daichi turn to blush and jabbed Kuroo in the side. He grunted with a laugh and held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Truthfully, the moment you first, genuinely smiled at me. It hit me like a bus.”

Daichi furrowed his brow. In an effort to fight his embarrassment, he concentrated on their timeline, and where that might have been. “When?”

“It was right after I examined Yachi. We kind of, I don’t know, negotiated my terms of staying here and helping out, I guess. You said ‘welcome aboard!’ with this… gorgeous grin, and it took me by surprise.”

“My smile…” he mulled, amazed. He’d never really thought something like that would have such an effect on his peers.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess it’s only fair that I tell you when I first realized I liked you, too.”

“Please. Your scrutinous questions are killing me.”

Daichi laughed. “Well, it’s funny you should mention that day because it was the same day it happened for me, too. I remember watching you with Yachi and I think your sweet nature hooked me.”

“Sweet nature? You mean it’s not my exquisite looks and charming bed head?” He received an eye roll, but the smile didn’t leave his face. That beautiful smile.

“And I think I fell in _love_ with you when you were going on that tangent about antibiotic history.”

His eyes widened. Daichi smiled wider.

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, lifting a hand to cup Kuroo’s cheek. “The real you is an adorable nerd that just loves science and would do anything to help people.” He kissed him gently and Kuroo kissed back.

“Excuse you. I am a fierce warrior that will save the world.”

Daichi barked out another laugh sliding back down to rest his head on his shoulder, pressed up against his side. “If you say so.”

“I do say so, thank you very much.” He shimmied down further into the bed, tucking the covers up around Daichi and himself. “How dare you,” he mumbled further. “I’m saving the world and this is how you repay me?” He said in mock disbelief. “Make fun of me for being a nerd. Wow.” Daichi continued to shake with laughter against him.

They fell into a content silence with smiles plastered onto their faces, Kuroo rubbing Daichi’s back, and Daichi trailing small lines along his sternum. Their eyes were heavy with exhaustion and liberation. Kuroo finally gave in and let his eyelids drop completely, taking in a deep breath and letting his body sink a little deeper into the mattress.

He frowned.

“How come you get a bed and I get a cot?”

Daichi was sent into another small fit of giggles, sparing him an upward glance.

“Maybe you should just use this one.”

He cracked his eye open, peering down at the other with a smirk. “Only if you’re in it, too.”

“Mmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

“You are seriously the worst.” He closed his eyes again and finally let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ;) I hope you thoroughly enjoyed it.


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